


Boiling Point

by greenleafin



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Pre-Canon, M/M, Medical Procedures, Military, Mutual Pining, Original Character(s), Pre-Canon, Pre-Overwatch, Secret Relationship, Slow Burn, and so is reaper even tho no one expects him to be, jack morrison is the light of everyone's life, jack morrison/oc (NOT ENDGAME!!!), lots of em - Freeform, slooooooooow slow burn like im sorry even i hate me, they go thru some shit u guys i wont lie 2 u, worst secret relationship ever, yet here he is
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-14
Updated: 2018-01-26
Packaged: 2018-08-22 08:29:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 11
Words: 101,655
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8279521
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/greenleafin/pseuds/greenleafin
Summary: Everyone knows about the fall of Overwatch-the death of its beloved commander Jack Morrison, and the defection of Blackwatch commander Gabriel Reyes. However no one knows about everything that went on beforehand. The lives of so many soldiers, and the lives of the two men who led Overwatch to glory.





	1. Add Water

Rural Indiana, born and raised.

Surrounded by cornfields to his left, right, and back sides. The lonely road was to his front...With another corn field directly behind it.

He didn't dislike corn—he loved it actually. It's just that there was so  _much_  of it. His parents were farmers, and after high school or college, he'd join them in the family business. It wasn't exactly what he had planned for himself, but it also wasn't the worse fate he could think of. Even still, he wanted to do more than that. He wanted to help people, wanted to help the world. 

That exact thought process is exactly what led him to the enlistment table stationed outside his school cafeteria.

" _Look at them, they're just here to prey on the poor idiots who buy into their shit."_

_"Yeah?"_

_"Yeah! I mean, they go after people who are scared about, like, what they're gonna do after school 'n stuff. And then they'll do whatever it takes to get you to join up. I read up about it. Like, they'll say some pretty sick lies to bring people in."_

_"No shit."_

_"No shit, dude."_

That was the conversation Jack overheard even as he made his way to the recruiting officer with a closely-shaved head and impeccably pressed uniform. The man standing behind the fold-out table there couldn't have been much older than him. As Jack approached, the man's attention snapped to him, and he smiled in greeting. It seemed more nervous than anything, and for a moment the younger boy was thrown off. Shouldn't someone who was trying to get him to 'throw his life away' look much more...Malicious? He halted for a brief moment, and that was when the soldier called out, "Hello! What's your name?"

Social etiquette would dictate that Jack reply, even if the sudden anxiety in his body begged him to turn around and promptly walk away. This was a stupid, impulsive idea. He still had couple weeks of high school left. His parent's wouldn't shove him out the door right away and tell him to fend for himself—plenty of time to look into colleges. Regardless, he couldn't deny that he had thought about joining the military.

So rather than high-tailing it outta there, Jack took one awkward step forward and smiled back brightly. "Hey! I'm, uh, Jack Morrison."

"Nice to meet you! Thomas Harrell. My friends call me 'Tommy' though." He stuck out his hand, and Jack took it, giving it a firm shake exactly how his father had taught him. "Good handshake!" Jack blushed lightly at the comment, shoving both of his hands into his jeans. "What brings you here to my table then, huh? Just wanted to talk, or I could give you some brochures and you can speak to someone on the phone if you prefer. We also have a recruitment office at the shopping center near here."

"I, uh...I wanted to talk to you I s'pose." He removed one of his hands from his pocket, grabbing the back of his neck and shifting from one foot to the other. He was seriously regretting not thinking of a game plan before coming over, but he was there now.

Thomas was patient with him. Another grin was offered to him, and the thought crossed Jack's mind that the man was attractive. Very attractive. This did nothing to help his nerves, and his face continued to heat up until he was certain that he was completely red.

"So you're interested in the army?"

"Huh?"

The older man laughed lightly and Jack thought if he could die at that moment then he would be alright with that. "I assumed you came over here to talk about joining the army maybe, but if you wanted to talk about the Cincinnati Reds or the weather that's fine too. I could use about any distraction"

Jack sneered. "Everyone around here is a damn Reds fan. My parents raised me to root for the Cards. Can't wear my own team's baseball hat without someone sayin' somethin'. The Reds ain't that great anyway." After a beat he added, "Sorry for swearing. Anyway, I, uh. Yeah, I was here to ask about the army. I mean, it was specifically for just the army but uh...Well I guess it is now." From his left foot to his right again. Removing his arm from the back of his head so that he could scratch his collarbone. Working on getting his face to a more natural color rather that one that resembled a fucking tomato.

Thomas nodded gravely. "I'll ignore the Reds statement just because you seem like an alright kid."

"Well," he protested. "Not a kid anymore. Just turned eighteen last weekend."

"Really?" The way Thomas looked at him made Jack's throat go a bit dry, and he simply nodded dumbly. He didn't feel the need to share the fact that his friends had taken him out to an abandoned barn, where they all got drunk and he got his dick sucked by the exchange student from Bolivia. Of course, Rolando asked before either of them had even finished a single bear so it was consensual. It truly did not last long. Again, none of this information would Jack blurt out to the soldier in front of him.

"So you could enlist right out of school if you wanted to. But that's a decision you need to think through.  _Seriously._ Have you talked to your parents about this at all?" Jack shook his head at that. "Hm. Well, make sure when you leave you take some brochures and flyers. I don't know what your family's like, but it's always good to have all the information you can if you want to go through with this, yeah?"

He echoed, "Yeah."

Holding up a finger, Thomas darted for a post-it note and a pen, hurriedly scribbling something down. He was done writing in a matter of moments, and then he held up the small piece of paper for Jack to take. "We're set to close in about two minutes, but call me if you have any questions alright?" Jack accepted the note, nodding once more. Thomas picked one of each pamphlet and information sheet that was offered on his table, and handed it all to the younger man. "If you're serious about this, and it's alright if you're not, you should research as much as you can. And talk to your folks. I don't want to get blamed for you runnin' off and joining the army without telling anyone." The blonde bobbed his head again, moving to put everything he was given as neatly into his backpack as he could.

The bell rang then, and Jack now only had three minutes to get to his next class. He was just about ready to say goodbye, when the man's grip on his arm stopped him.

"I'm in that recruiting office I mentioned every day after three until closing except Saturday. If you'd rather talk in person, or you want to bring your parents in."

"Y-yeah, that sounds good." Jack snatched the pen off the table to write that information down on his hand. Without thinking, he put the cap in between his lips, and only when he moved to put the top back on did he realize what he had done. "Oh, shit—sorry. I, uh..."

Thomas chuckled. "Keep it. Maybe it'll remind you of me." Jack blushed furiously again, and quickly stammered out a goodbye.

Walking past the same couple he had overheard earlier, he heard one of them whisper,  _"Jesus, all it takes is a pretty face and he's throwing his life away."_

_"Poor guy."_

Jack bit his tongue and kept on moving.

 

\----------------

 

He stared at the blue handwriting against the pale yellow background with a frown deep enough to give him several unattractive wrinkles. Jack laid on his bed, head dangling off with his knees bent up towards his stomach.

_Tommy Harrell_

_(753)-476-8174_

It was simple enough. Just pick up his cellphone and call the guy. Ask him a few questions that weren't directly answered in the neatly typed handouts. Ask him if it was still okay to come by the office and talk. Maybe...Maybe even enlist! It had been a week already, and Jack had argued with his parents about it. Over the weekend Jack had spent several hours watching recruitment videos, weighting the pros and cons of everything.

Of course, he hated the thought that he was being manipulated into this. On the other hand, he was becoming more and more excited about the prospect of everything. With tensions rising all across the world, it might soon turn into a war. And if it did, he wanted to be there doing whatever he could to stop it. Sure he knew that he could die. He knew that nothing was going to be easy as soon as he joined. But he also knew that this late in the game, he'd have to wait half a year before looking into colleges of any sort. Even then, there wasn't exactly a huge demand for a 3.1 grade average kid who hadn't excelled in either of the sports he played in school. Though, his coaches and teachers would give glowing recommendations if he asked them. Everyone was in love with his sparkling personality, and all school faculty knew he worked harder than almost anyone.

With a loud groan, he rolled over onto his stomach. He set the note on the floor, and rested his drooping head on his arms.

 _Just call him, Jack. Call him or you're a coward bitch,_ as his friends would say. This was what prompted him to grab his phone off his pillow and hurriedly tap in the numbers on the screen. It was another moment before he actually pressed the call button, but when he did, there were hardly two rings before someone on the other end pick up.

**"Hello?"**

"Uh, hi, yeah. I'm looking for Thomas, uh, Harrell?"

**"Just a second, hon."**

He waited for about ten seconds, relaxing music playing through the other end. Contrary to just about everyone, Jack didn't mind that 'elevator music' type of noise. It was soothing, and filled otherwise awkward silences. During this time he sat up, crossing his legs on his bed. He picked at a piece of lint on his comforter, biding his time and humming along to the music. There wasn't much time to enjoy it though, because before he knew it, he heard,  **"Hello! This is Thomas."**

"Hey, this is—I mean, I don't know if you remember me, but this is the kid that you spoke to in Elmer's Academy the other day—"

**"Jack?"**

The boy blushed, though he knew no one could see him. "Yeah, it's me."

There was a brief pause, some shuffling on the other end, and Jack could hear the tapping sounds of a keyboard. Maybe the man on the other line was taking notes on this or something.  **"It's been a week, man! How've you been?"**

Jack only turned redder. First off, Thomas remembered him enough to know his name with only minimal prompting, and he hadn't had it written down anywhere.  _Maybe he's just good with names,_ Jack thought. But he hoped it was because he had left an impression on the soldier he was conversing with. A positive impression that is. "I've been good! I meant to call earlier, but I've been doing research...uh, stuff. And I talked to my parents like you said."

**"Yeah? How do they feel about it?"**

"Um...I mean, they're not thrilled I guess. But they want to come and talk with you down at the recruitment office before they make a decision."

**"Of course. You remember my hours here, right?"**

"Uh..." He didn't want to admit that he didn't, there had been a lot going on at school that week. Jack racked his brain, trying hard to recall what he'd been told. Thomas was patient on the other end, letting out something that sounded like a laugh.

**"It's okay if you don't, I should've put it on the note that I gave you. Any time after three is fine, except on Saturdays. That's my one day off."**

"Okay, got it."

Another laugh came from the other end.  **"You sure? Don't need to write it down?"**

"Ha. Ha-ha," came Jack's sarcastic response. Thomas found it funny at least. "I should be free, um...Tomorrow I think. If that's okay."

He hoped it was.

**"Yep, that's fine. I'll see you then. Unless you have any other questions?"**

Jack shook his head before realizing that the other man couldn't see him. "No, I'm good. Thank you for everything."

Some more shuffling could be heard. Something that sounded like another person's voice, probably someone else in whatever office Thomas was in. More typing. Then,  **"No problem. See you later."**  Jack hung up first, his heart pounding. He hadn't even realized that it was, and he began to smile.  _Finally,_ something in his life that  _he_ was planning for  _himself._ Not his parents, not his counselors, teachers, coaches, sisters. It hadn't occurred to him until recently how little control he's had of his existence until then. Well, now Jackson Morrison was determined to change that. He wouldn't call potentially joining the army 'rebelling' against his family but it wasn't exactly... _not._

He groaned again, flopping onto his back and propped his legs up on his wall. Idly, he looked around his room; at the posters on his walls and the german flag that covered half of one of his windows. It was given to him by his German teacher when he got a 100% on the state test. It was the only subject he excelled in, even going as far as to becoming absolutely fluent in the language. He wanted to take Spanish, especially because of the attractive Puerto Rican teacher, but the spots had filled up before he'd had a chance to register for it. He had no interested in French, so German it was. It was a nice memory when he'd found out that not only had he passed the test, but been the one of the only people in his entire school to score a perfect grade in linguistics. The other two were girls who took Spanish, one of whom was Cuban. 

His attention shifted, and he made a resolution to take in everything that he could. Regardless of what he chose, there would come a time where he'd have to leave this place. He'd hosted parties at his parent's house, mostly in the barn, but there was one inside, three days after his birthday. That was the night where he'd made out with his crush, Collin. Right on this very bed, Jack had his second orgasm not brought about by his own hand.

The room was painted a welcoming shade of light blue, though one wall was white.  _An accent wall!_ His mother called it. His floor wasn't messy, just had his backpack and a couple books on it. His dresser was lined with pictures and little trinkets that had special meanings. The most memorable of which was his Prom King crown. The flowers he had been given were still in a vase on the kitchen table.

His bookshelf was standard, though it was aging poorly. His closet that had a sliding door with blinds was also painted white. Inside that was a fucking disaster, but no one needed to know that except Jack. His sheets were a dark blue silk, matching the same shade of blue comforter-which was not silk. He liked the feeling of his sheets, but the comforter actually kept him warm. Balance, he thought, was important.

He couldn't remember falling asleep, but when his mom called him down for dinner, he knew he must've with the amount of grogginess that set about him. Informing his parents that he had arranged to talk to the 'army man' went better than he thought, and they agreed to it. He went to bed that night nervous and giddy.

School dragged by the next day, but as soon as he got home, he threw his bag in his room, and nearly dragged his mother and father out of the house.

It seemed Thomas was expecting him when they walked in, as he was by the front desk, smiling pleasantly. He darted up, quickly crossing the distance so that he could shake Andrea and Lucas Morrison's hands, loudly exclaiming, "Welcome! Hi! It's so nice to meet you both!" Jack knew that his father respected a man with good eye-contact and a great handshake, and by the look on his face, Thomas had accomplished just that.

The military soldier invited them all to sit down, three chairs placed neatly in front of his desk with a computer on it, already logged in.

Immediately his parents began throwing questions at the man, but he answered each of them calmly and honestly. Each answer he gave was mostly straight-faced, but every so often he would glance Jack's way and grin. Jack would hardly have time to upturn his lips in response before one of the adults asked something else. The process seemed to go so fast, but eventually his mother turned to her son.

"Jack, honey, are you sure this is what you want?" He paused, looking at Thomas. He was of no help though, he just sat there and looked at Jack with a blank expression. Which was for the best, he supposed. It would have been really sketchy if he indicated in any way what Jack should be doing with his life.

"I can...I can just go for a few years right? Do some good, and then come back home after my enlistment is up?"

"Yes, of course."

"Then..." Jack sucked in a little bit of air. "Then yes, I'm sure. I want to do this."

He could see his mother look down, hiding her expression. His father's eyes welled up a bit, but the oldest man refused to let any spill. Instead, he clapped Jack on the back. "Then we're proud of you, Jackie." Jack sighed, relieved that he had finally spoken aloud his wishes. It felt exhilarating in all honesty. He beamed at Thomas, who offered a polite smile back. He moved his mouse around, turning the monitor from black back to a form.

"I can get you registered for the ASVAB now then," he turned to the husband and wife, "It stands for 'Armed Forces Vocational Aptitude Battery.' It's a test where he'll find out exactly what he should do in the army if he passes. From there he'll take a physical, which with his physique should be pretty easy with a little preparation." Jack fought down the heat in his face at the mention of his body. "After that, a career counselor will contact you, and you'll meet up to formally accept your army job if you choose to. After that, you take the Oath of Enlistment, and not too long after that you'll be packing your bags for Basic. Does this all sound like something you want to do? It's a big step, Jack."

With another pause, Jack nodded his head in confirmation.

"Alright. Then give me just a moment please and I'll get you registered for the test." It didn't take long, Jack figured it was just inputting some information about him and finding out when and where he could take it. Once he was all set, the four of them rose from their seats.

Thomas once again shook the hands of Jack's parents, and they began for the door. Jack lagged behind, concentrating on scratching his arm so he didn't have to look up. "Thank you, Thomas, for everything."

The older man set his hand on Jack's right shoulder, and this startled the blonde into looking up. "Tommy. You can call me Tommy. And if you have any other...Questions, or if you just want to talk, here's my personal number." He slipped a scrap of paper into Jack's left hand, and Jack swallowed thickly. "Just text me anytime. About anything." Thomas's— _Tommy's_ brown eyes stared into Jack's blue pair, and the boy could have sworn this was flirting.

"I-I, uh." He stopped when he saw the soldier's smile. "Thank you."

"It's no problem. It looks like your mom and dad are waiting for you though, so you better go. But," this halted Jack once again. "I really mean it about you texting me, okay?"

Jack whispered out, "Yes," before speedily walking to his parents and out the door of the recruiting office.

 

_\------------------------------------------_

 

_(A year before)_

 

He could count the amount of times he had been out of Los Angeles on one hand.

The amount of times he'd left California state could be counted on a single finger, and even then it was just to visit his grandmother's hometown in Mexico.

Now he was considering leaving everything behind in order to join the army. It was a very conscious decision of his, something he had wanted ever since he was in middle school. They'd had a rally where war veterans from different sanctions of the military came in to speak with them. Marines, Air Force, Navy, and so on all sent their best representatives to make their mark on their impressionable young minds. When he'd gone home to excitedly tell his Mamá about it, she had acted excited about it to his face, then later hissed to his father how 'manipulative' and 'underhanded' it was. In later years he'd have to agree with her, but as for then...

Then he had strived for greatness. Before, Gabriel had been nothing special as far as academia was. It wasn't that he wasn't smart—quite the opposite actually. His teachers all remarked that he was a pleasure to have in class, a very bright boy. But he never  _applied himself_. Every single year his parents heard the exact same commentary on his behavior.

As soon as he entered high school,  _applying himself_ is all he did. Despite grief from his friends and classmates, he joined every single advanced placement he qualified for.

Which is to say that he joined every single AP class his school had to offer. Advanced english, maths, sciences, history. He even took psychology and sociology, just because they would look good to a recruiting officer. In the final weeks of his high school career, he was on the list of top ten students. Right behind Marina Fletcher by .04 of his GPA, coming in at number seven. If he got above a 94 on his next math text, he'd finish his senior year as number six. He wouldn't get a fancy title out of it like the valedictorian or salutatorian, but out of his 523 fellow graduating class, number six was alright with him.

Not only was Gabriel an excellent student, but he was very popular and outgoing. In his yearbook he had been voted in as Most Dependable. What he believed was the tipping scale of his winning the title was he had held three girls' hair back while they vomited alcohol into a friend's house. Simultaneously. From there each girl had gone on to tell everyone at the party what a 'great guy' Gabriel was, as though anyone needed a reminder.

He balanced his school schedule with one sport each season. Cross country. Swimming. Lacrosse. The only one he was particularly good at was cross country, though his talents with swimming and lacrosse did not go unnoticed. He had started all of this in the interest of looking more appealing to the army, but he found a genuine interest in each of his chosen sports.

One thing could be said about Gabriel Reyes; he gave absolutely  _everything_ his all if he deemed it worthy.

Passionate, driven, intelligent, kind, and so many more words were all used to describe him. Though, one problem that many people had with him is that he never seemed to know how to relax. Of course, his parents were thrilled that he never seemed to get drunk or high, never had to be brought home by the police like so many of those who attended his school had to. This isn't to say that he didn't drink, and he had been known to accept a joint from time to time, but it was never often enough. As well liked as he was, he was never invited to many parties. When he was, he would have one drink, and supervise everyone else. He would be one of the first to arrive, even going as far as to help set up. But he was also one of the first people to  _leave._ By the few that didn't trust him, he had been accused of calling the authorities himself, seeing as all the events he left early were crashed. He never cared too much about those accusations, as he knew they weren't true.

Gabriel just had a knack for knowing which parties would get out of hand quickly. The first time someone tried to throw a punch at a party was when he would exit. There was no need to involve himself in any fights, and if he was caught by the police, it would go on his record. If it went on his record, his chances of obtaining a high rank in the army would vanish.

So no crazy parties for him.

Walking home was always a time for him to reflect on his life, and with only three weeks of school left, this is what he focused his mind on. He reached his home quickly, as he only lived a few blocks away from his school. He tried the knob, praying he didn't have to dig his key out of the bottom of his bag. Luck was on his side, and as he entered his home he found his grandmother sitting at the kitchen table, Spanish version of the newspaper in hand.

_"Hola, abuelita."_

She smiled brightly at him, wrinkles causing her eyes to nearly close entirely. Even for a seventy-six year old woman, she was looking beautiful as ever.

_"Nieto! Hola. Como te fue escuela hoy? Tu quieres oir tu horóscopo?"_

_"Sí, abuelita. En uno momento, necesito poner mi mochila en mi dormitorio."_

_"Esta bien, esta bien. Mas rápido, nińo."_ He laughed, taking off his shoes quickly and crossing the kitchen to place a kiss on his grandmother's salt-and-pepper head. She patted his cheek lovingly, and he made his way to his bedroom to throw his bag near his bed. He took off his socks and threw them in his hamper too, grimacing at the way they wanted to stick to his skin. Making his way back, he heard the older woman call out,  _"¡Gabrielito, es un horóscopo muy interesante!"_

Appearing in the doorway seemed to startle her momentarily, but she quickly rapped her knuckles on the spot next to her.  _"Siéntate. Oh, tu tienes tarea?"_

_"No, escuela es casi terminada. No tarea."_

_"Ah, está bien. ¡Escuchame! Vemos...Sagitario...Ah, aqui. Tu tienes un gran posibilidad muy pronto. Tu necesitas mirar para todos los indicios que conducirá a tu destino."_ She finished her vague prophecy with a satisfied nod, placing the paper down and folding her hands on top of it.

_"¿Eso es? Creí que hay más."_

She slapped his arm gently, opening her mouth to scold him for disrespecting the stars or something along those lines, but he simply laughed to let her know he was joking.  _"Gracias, abuelita. Voy a miraré."_ She got up from the table, moving to the stove to continue cooking dinner. Gabriel announced that he was going to take a shower, and she muttered a quick thank you, no doubt disgusted with his smell from practice. He washed quickly, and when he dried off and dressed in a clean pair of shorts and a t-shirt, he reentered the kitchen to find his father conversing excitedly with his own mother.

Quirking an eyebrow, Gabriel leaned against the counter while his father held out an envelope. "Open it,  _mijo!_ It's from your guidance counselor and I think it is about your test results!" Upon hearing that, Gabriel immediately began tearing open the white pouch, nervously fumbling open the typed letter. He skimmed it until he found what he was looking for.

"Based on your results, we find you suited for leadership within the U.S. Army! Congratulations, Gabriel Reyes!" He looked up, brown eyes wide open with sheer joy.

His grandmother clapped excitedly, and his father pulled him in for a hug.  _"Felicitación, mijo! Necesitamos decir tu madre cuando ella llega aquí."_ Gabriel nodded enthusiastically, eyes roaming to share a look with his abuelita.

_"Los indios, Gabriel."_

 

\----------------

 

The last days of school flew by. He aced the math test that he had been studying for, pulling ahead of not only Marina Fletcher, but Brandon Tolmes as well—a surprise to them both. He had taken the last of his standardized tests in his classes,  passing each of them with flying colors. There were graduation parties he was invited to, but the only one he was mildly interested in was his own. Even this he couldn't focus on. Each day he went without receiving a phone call informing him of when he was supposed to leave for basic training was grating on his nerves. His parents as well as grandmother tried multiple ways to take his mind off of it.

"Maybe you can come to work with me at the school, Gabriel?"

"Want to go see a movie together this weekend?"

_"¿Quieres cocinar conmigo?"_

He tried his best not to be irritable with any of them, as they were all only trying to help. Gabriel had friends in high school, but as soon as they had graduated, he lost interest in them too. The texts and calls that he received nearly every day seemed to halt as soon as he expressed his disinterest in absolutely everything that was going on. One message after another he shot down with, 'Sorry, I don't think I'll be able to concentrate on anything but training for a while. Once I get there, I'll write letters.' There were some that were happy for him moving on with his life, and there were others that he was sure were pissed that he was leaving so suddenly. He understood this, sure. But he was already going to miss his friends tremendously, but there was no use in drawing out the pain and grief that they would be faced with as soon as he departed. The boys that he played basketball with once a week quickly excluded him from their games. The group of friends that he would go to clubs with stopped inviting him. A girl he knew liked him wanted to throw a going-away party before he left for training, but he had zero investment in that either. He was kicked from one group chat for lack of activity. Then another. A month and a half passed like this, with the teenager's increasingly sour mood beginning to wear on everyone else's patience.

Then finally one day, he was in the kitchen working on some Sudoku book he'd picked up at a gas station. He'd nearly made it all the way through, though he was still only on the medium difficulty. As soon as the phone rang, he made his way over to it. The thought that he might finally be called in was at the back of his mind until he heard,  **"Gabriel Reyes?"**

"Yes?" He replied tentatively.

When the voice on the other end of the phone informed him that he would need to report to a military-sanctioned bus in exactly one week, he thought he could cry from sheer joy. No one was home with him then, but when his family returned one after another, he excitedly told them how soon he would be leaving. His grandmother cried a bit, hugging him tightly. The groceries she had brought in lay forgotten on the counter for nearly ten minutes while she fussed over him. She still hadn't fully accepted that her  _Gabrielito_ would be leaving them so soon.

His father drew him into a large embrace, kissing the top of his head. He had no groceries with him, but his work boots would leave an unattractive mark on the floor from where he had crossed it to congratulate his son.

His mother cupped his face and whispered to him softly in a mixture of English and Spanish how proud she was of him, and that he had better write them every single day.

Even though he knew that their happiness for him was bitter-sweet, he couldn't wipe the grin off of his face. Dinner that night was filled with him explaining the same things that the older adults had heard over and over again, though none of them interrupted.

Immediately following the meal, Gabriel ran to his room and began packing. The next six days were full of him making preparations, saying final farewells to everyone from high school, repacking, going to the gym to burn off nervous energy, and repacking yet again. At one point he expressed his desire for a dog yet again, his mother retorting that it was good they  _didn't_  have one, because the poor thing would drop from exhaustion before Gabriel did. He couldn't remember sleeping at all that week, though it must've happened at some point. Quite possibly in between suitcase-stuffing sessions.

Then—what was considered much too soon for his parents—the day came where he needed to be dropped off at the bus station, meagre suitcase in his hand, a backpack slung over one shoulder. He vaguely thought that he should be more afraid than he was.

He'd always hated saying goodbye.

Not because he found it tedious or useless, but because he always found himself closer to tears than he cared to be. His father and abuela were already sobbing openly, the two of them holding onto him tightly. His mother stood right behind them, wiping away a few stray droplets from her eyes every few moments. He watched as other men and women clambered into the vehicle, some crying, some looking terrified, some looking like they just wanted to get this over with.

Only when the bus driver cleared his throat was Gabriel released. His father gave him one final pat on the shoulder, his mother a kiss on the cheek. His grandmother placed a hundred dollar bill into his hands, and when he looked up at her in surprise, she quickly shook her head.  _"Quédatelo, Gabrielito."_   He wanted to protest, but she pulled his head down so that she could kiss the top of it. It was then that his eyes welled up as well, and with a final wave he stepped onto the bus. The man driving seemed a little impatient, but when he saw how young Gabriel was, he offered a small smile. The bus was crowded, and the only spot he could see was next to a sour looking woman. Quickly he put his suitcase on the metal rack above the seat, preferring to keep his bag tucked between his feet. When he sat, the woman sharply turned her head to look outside the window, and Gabriel reminded himself that it wasn't personal. Probably.

The ride to base was awful. Gabriel knew his phone would be taken away as soon as they started training, so he was desperately texting his father every half hour. The warm feeling that had occupied his stomach since he figured out that he wanted to join the military, and then the army, was replaced with sadness. They were going to a base in Seattle, Washington. Before he had left, Gabriel looked up the travel time. Ten hours without traffic. Not including bathroom and food stops. Not including traffic. Not including literally anything else that could go wrong.

He supposed that he should be grateful that they were taking the newer buses that ran along the monorail tracks. If they weren't, the trip would take seventeen hours, not including any of the aforementioned stops.

Their first bathroom break came within four hours into the trip. Gabriel would've liked to have stayed seated, but the woman next to him looked like she would absolutely snarl at him if he didn't stand up and let her out. To avoid pissing anyone else off, he exited the bus with everyone else. When he entered the bathroom, there were nearly ten other men in the cramped room with him. He sighed gently, and went to the sink so he could splash water on his face and stare at himself in the mirror. He reached up to pull one of his curls, releasing it abruptly so that it bounced back up to join the rest of his hair. The eyes in the mirror gazed into his own, and he couldn't help but feel discouraged already.

A cough behind him startled him enough so that he whipped around, apologizing for taking too much time. The man behind him assured him that it was no problem, though he obviously was becoming impatient. Gabriel hurried out of the small bathroom, and was relieved to find his grouchy bench partner already settled in her seat.

She didn't outright glare at him when he sat down, but she didn't look thrilled to see him either. He'd take it.

After a few more minutes and a roll-call later, the bus began moving again. Gabriel slumped in his seat, trying his best to make himself comfortable without disturbing the other woman. He timed his movements so that he'd descend an inch or so every couple minutes, trying to be subtle about it. For the most part, his plan worked, and he noticed her annoyed gaze only once. He crossed his arms, wiggling just slightly so that he could get his legs in a more comfortable position.

Sleep didn't come for him, no matter how hard he tried.

Two more hours passed like this before Gabriel took to staring out the window for a long time, watching as cars passed them on the highway. The woman fell asleep at some point, blessedly moving her head out of the way so that he could see more. He noticed the way that the entire sky turned gold for a brief amount of time as the sun set, and the lights on the other vehicles on the road nearly put him in a trance-like state. Everything was moving so fast, and he made himself snicker with trying to put together some bullshit deep thought about how it correlated with his own life.  _Still though,_  he thought,  _it's kind of true._ He shook his head, and busied himself with a game on his phone.

It was fast approaching one in the morning, and the final text from his father that night set the boy at ease.

**You will be fine, Gabriel. We love you. Get some sleep.**

Hearing the man who raised him confirm his faith in Gabriel was enough to allow him to relax.

He was going to be fine.

He was going to be more than fine.

This is what he's wanted since he was in fucking middle school. He was going to get to Seattle and give it his all, he would do better than anyone had ever  _seen._ He sat up straighter in his seat, almost knocking off the woman's elbow next to him in the process. He ignored her near-snarl as a new wave of determination filled him.

This determination followed him even as he got off the bus with the other new recruits, taking in the Seattle base with wide eyes and a set look. It followed him even after his beloved curls were shaved away, replaced with a crew cut that would have made his grandmother cry. It followed him even as he was made to sleep with twenty-nine other men in his room, three of whom snored loud enough to wake the dead. It followed him as drill sergeant after drill sergeant screamed in his face. It followed him through the mud, the blood, the sleepless nights, the homesickness, the friends he began to make.

His remarkable talent and unstoppable attitude was duly noted amongst his supervisors, some of whom even asked him what kept him going even when nearly everyone else seemed to break. Each time he replied exactly the same way.

A salute. A deadlock of eyes between him and whoever was grilling him. And finally the absolute statement that nothing would get in his way—n _othing_


	2. Set Heat

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> as always, if you see any spelling/grammar mistakes, or any inaccuracies please let me know! 
> 
> you can follow me at [tumblr](http://whillowed.tumblr.com/) for updates, send me questions, submit stuff, or whatever you want to be there for! i also have a twitter that im just now opening up [here!!](https://twitter.com/maxalackin) im a loooot more active as far as talking on there goes but either works!
> 
> me and iridian have a playlist on spotify for reaper76 which you can find [here!](https://open.spotify.com/user/22ohf35fkcwkxrtd7vygohata/playlist/3cLNB4KHtJBdPUhe5gbEPC)
> 
> feel free to comment with questions, concern, or general comments! i love to hear from you guys and i'll get the next chapter up as soon as i can! thanks for reading!
> 
> okay so that's outta the way but OH MY GOOOOOOOSH i'm so sorry it's taken me to long to update. school has been destroying me this semester. BUT! winter break is here and i've never been so grateful. HOPEFULLY i'll be able to stay on top of writing over the break, but i make no promises. mostly bc i'll mostly just disappoint myself lol.

He stepped onto the army base with his duffle bag slung across his shoulder, letting out a low whistle. The trip there was long and tiring, but he had used the time to make friendly with as many people on that plane as he could. Though not even socializing made getting up at three in the morning for a flight bearable. 

The place was huge, absolutely massive. He'd known that he was being sent to the largest army base in the U.S., but being there in person and seeing it in pictures were two very different things. In the recent years, Seattle's base had been expanded upon so much that it beat out North Carolina's by one hundred acres. Not only that, but their population exceeded Fort Bragg's by a few hundred or so. 

Everyone in front of him was slow in getting off the bus. Not that Jack minded. It gave him a chance to take in everything that he saw (and a few deep breaths) and try to calm his nerves before they met with their drill instructor. 

Sure enough, as soon as every last person had stepped off the bus, a small woman with a hat that nearly resembled a cowboy's and an immaculate uniform strode up to them. For a person with such short legs, she sure could haul ass. At least, that's what Jack thought right before she began screaming at them. It took a few moments for the startled group to realize that—yes, she was yelling at them. And that she was yelling an  _order_ at them. 

When he was a bit slow on the uptake, a friend that Jack had made on the plane grabbed the back of the shirt and hauled him back into line with him. Jack quietly thanked him, and was met with a tiny nod. The few men that weren't lucky enough to either realize what was going on or have someone that did know looking out for them received a very rowdy woman in their faces.

"MAGGOT! What is your name?!" 

"J-Jeremy." 

"WHAT?"

"J...JEREMY, MA'AM!"

She nodded, then moved onto the next man she'd had her eye on. The asking for names continued until she seemed satisfied with embarrassing enough people. After a brief pause, she began pacing back and forth in front of the group. Jack was reminded of a lion he'd seen in the zoo a few years back, though this woman looked a lot deadlier. 

"My name is Drill Sergeant Nassar. Though you brats will only address me as 'Drill Sergeant.' And if you call me ma'am—" Nassar took a moment to point directly in the face of a flustered Jeremy—"Ever again. You will be doing push ups until your arms break. AM I CLEAR?!" 

The group roared out, "YES, DRILL SERGEANT!" How all of them managed to be coordinated enough to do so was a surprise. She nodded, then proceeded to pace a few more times. 

Then she stopped in front of Jack. 

He swallowed hard, but kept his gaze forward. Immediately he became subconscious of how he was standing, wishing that he hadn't clasped his hands behind his back just in case she tried to gut-punch him. Whatever she was looking for in him, she soon became bored and walked from one end of their lineup to the other twice more. 

No one was expecting the loud shout when she did, and at least a few of them jumped. Jack sure did. 

"Listen up, maggots! We're gonna play a little game! It's called, line up and get on and off the bus until I'm happy. Any questions?" Not a single one of them responded, and she whistled sharply. The first man in their group decided that that was the signal for them to begin, and he all but ran onto the bus, going towards the back as quickly as possible. Everyone else followed suit, and Jack found himself tripping over the leg of a seat. His friend that had pulled him into formation steadied him immediately, and as soon as they were seated Jack whispered, "that's two I owe ya'." 

"Don't mention it." 

The bus shook as Nassar climbed on. Though how, Jack wasn't sure. She looked like she was about a hundred pounds and to be able to shake a whole bus must've taken some mighty strength. But Jack was never dumb enough to assume just by her size that she couldn't absolutely murder all of them with her bare hands if she didn't want to. Jack prayed he was never dumb enough to give her a reason to. She looked around with an annoyed expression on her face. 

"PATHETIC. EVERYONE OFF." 

Those towards the front of the bus hurried to do as she said. Jack and his friend were towards the middle, which seemed to help in escaping her wrath for the moment. 

Once everyone was off, she resumed her pacing. Deep down the blonde knew it was just a tactic to rattle their nerves, but damn if it wasn't working. He prayed silently along with the rest of his companions that she wouldn't call him out. Then she stopped dead in front of him and pointed a finger right between his eyes.

"YOU!"

He hoped he didn't look too much like an idiot when his eyes crossed for that brief moment.

"NAME?"

Echoing the shout he believed she wanted, he answered, "JACK MORRISON, DRILL SERGEANT!" 

Finally she removed the digit from his face. He knew better than to relax though. "Morrison. WHAT was that pathetic excuse for a bus-boarding? If you fell you would have taken down that entire row! God forbid someone 'Million Dollar Baby' it and fall and snap their neck!" He wasn't entirely sure what she was referencing, but he figured it best not to interrupt to ask. "Do you want someone to fall and snap their neck?!" 

Jack knew his face was completely red. He'd always had the shit luck of being a full body blusher. "NO, DRILL SERGEANT!" 

"Then next time you better keep your footing, maggot." 

With that she turned sharply and got into the next man's face. Jack knew what to expect, but it didn't make him feel any better. Even as she screamed at another man that his mother would be ashamed of him, he could still feel his cheeks and ears burning. He'd be over it soon, he knew. Everyone else there was going to get screamed at by Nassar at some point today, he knew that too. It didn't make the experience any less horrible. Immediately anxiety flooded his body. The prospect of everyone in that lineup thinking he was a stupid fuck-up was almost too much to bear. The prospect that word would get around base and he'd be mocked by everyone there was even worse. Maybe he should've just listened to his mom, dad and sisters and stayed home, gone to college, found a job that even he couldn't screw up. 

There was a slight sensation coming from his right hand, and he looked down briefly to find his friend standing next to him brushing it lightly. The taller man looked down at him and smiled just a bit. Not enough to tip anyone else off, but enough to let Jack know what it was. 

He filled his blue eyes with as much gratitude as he possibly could, and the two of them looked straight ahead once more. 

The berating and demoralizing lasted another minute or two before they were ordered to get back on the bus again. Once again, their performances were not up to par. Once again they were yelled off, and got another lecture about how they did their ancestors dirty and how they were all hell spawn. Jack was thankfully spared this round from the personal chewing out. 

They all had to board the bus and get off again a total of seven times before Nassar seemed pleased enough to take a few steps back from them, and stand with her legs spread apart. Her arms were bent behind her back, and she held her head high, despite being shorter than every single person there. 

She opened her mouth, and Jack nearly flinched, expecting her to raise her voice to insane levels yet again. 

When she spoke though, it was uncharacteristically quiet. Or maybe Jack was just going deaf. Either way, every one of the men facing her shut their mouths immediately. 

"Listen up!" All of them straightened their backs. Those whose hands were preoccupied in one form or another dropped to their sides. Nassar nodded at this and continued on. "All of you are here to be U.S. Army soldiers. This is no easy task. By enlisting and showing up you have proven that you are willing to go above and beyond to serve your country. You are all here to protect every single individual in this country. You are here to watch over your fellow soldier, and to be the very best man you can be. I'm only going to be your drill sergeant for today, but you best believe this is not the last you will see of me." Her speech had the easiness and confidence of someone that had been rehearsed many times before. Jack, and nearly every other man there, found themselves enraptured by her words. 

"I will not tolerate any of you disrespecting me. I will not tolerate any of you disrespecting any other drill sergeant here. I will not tolerate any of you disrespecting each  _other."_ The man next to Jack nudged him again, and when the blonde looked up, there was a small smirk on his face. He nudged him back, and turned his attention once again to Nassar. "From now on you are all brothers. Every one on this base is your brother, or your sister. We are your family. Take care of us, and we will take care of you. AM I UNDERSTOOD?" 

The lot of them perked up simultaneously and roared, "YES, DRILL SERGEANT!" 

"I CAN'T HEAR YOU!" 

Louder, they all again yelled, "YES, DRILL SERGEANT!" There was another order for them to follow her to the in-processing building. She explained that they would all wait in a row to hand in the paperwork that they had with them, and fill out some more. Once everyone was done, they'd carry their luggage to the barracks. Simple enough, Jack thought. 

He continued thinking this until they saw the enormous line ahead of them. Turns out, they were not the only bus of recruits showing up to base today. From the looks of the people that began to fill out behind them, they were not the last bus either. Jack took a deep breath and turned slightly to find his friend do the same. 

"Hey." Isaac. That was his name. He smiled fully at the blonde, and Jack found himself grinning back. 

"Hey," was Jack's clever reply. He quickly ran through a checklist of things he remembered from when they had talked on the plane. He came from just outside of Cincinnati, both parents were in the Army, had a dog named Oliver Twist. Talkative as Jack usually was, there wasn't much to make conversation on when they hardly knew each other. He glanced towards the halted line. Somehow he didn't think that _what kind of corn from the midwest is your favorite_ would be a stellar topic to discuss. Well, he'd have to make do. "Um, so-"

"How-" 

Both of them clamped their mouths shut, Jack just barely stifling a giggle. 

"You first," Isaac said, but the shorter man shook his head. 

"It was nothing important. Sorry I interrupted you." 

Since Jack was just over six feet tall, it took a lot of person to tower over him, but Isaac somehow managed. The blonde felt a lump begin to form in his throat from the way Isaac looked at him, though he couldn't be sure as to why. Isaac leaned up against the wall behind them, and Jack found himself following suit. 

Isaac briefly squinted his eyes up at the sun, before looking down again to smile at Jack. "How'd you decide to join the Army? Unless that's too personal. I don't know what else to talk about right now honestly." He let out a very brief, slightly nervous laugh and looked down at the ground. Jack let out a little hum, considering his answer, and Isaac kicked at a little clump of dirt that was near his boot. 

"I guess...It was...Like a spur of the moment thing." The taller man looked at him from the corner of his eyes, and Jack continued. "I didn't wanna be a farmer for the rest of my life. I didn't really have any other skills." 

"I'm sure that's not true." 

"Naw." Jack scratched the back of his neck, smiling bashfully. "I was real good at lifting bales of hay, knowing when the corn was ready to be harvested. That sorta thing. But not much else. I did okay in school, but...Everyone else was getting into different stuff. I had some friends who wanted to go to school for art. Some others to be business CEO's or whatever. But I never found anything that held my attention...Or that I was decent at." He looked ahead as he spoke, blue eyes soft and unfocused. "But, um, I don't know. I guess if people tell me what to do I can do it pretty well. Just. Never been one to take initiative. So, one day I saw an army recruiter at my school and...went for it." The hand that he was using to illustrate some of his points suddenly felt awkward, and he tucked it behind his back. He paused to chuckle and look back up at his friend. "Now here we are." 

He wasn't sure how Isaac would take the story. He didn't think that the taller man would be one for judging him on his lack of intelligence or motivation, however he couldn't help but feel a little nervous. 

Instead of reprimanding him for whatever reason, Isaac just sighed. "Makes my story a little lackluster. You sound so brave." 

Jack raised not one, but both of his eyebrows in surprise. "Whaddya mean?" 

"Well..." He shifted so that only one of his arms was propping him up against the wall, and motioned for Jack to move forward in the line a few paces before taking steps of his own. "Thing is, I was never really sure I wanted to join the military at all. My parents have always kinda pressured me. I heard all these stories of my great-grandpa, my grandpa, my dad, mom, great-aunt, all war heroes or something. Some of them never went to war though, like my mom. My dad was never in a war either but  _one time_ he saved his buddy from tripping into a land mine. Never shut up about it." He smiled to make sure that Jack could tell he felt no ill will towards his father. "I mean, it's a pretty cool story, don't get me wrong. But once you hear about it for the hundredth time it loses its charm." Isaac noted the way that Jack's eyes barely left his own, listening to every word he said. "Anyway, there was just all this pressure. But...I joined up anyway. Dropped out of college to do it too. I've never seen my parents so proud. Then I boarded a bus that took me to a plane, and you know the rest." 

The blonde took another step forward to close some of the space between himself and the man in front of him. "So you don't want to be here?" 

"I dunno." Isaac responded with a wink. "Now it doesn't seem like it's gonna be so bad." 

 

\----------------

 

Orientation week wasn't as awful as everyone said it was going to be. In Jack's opinion at least. For the first half of processing, the drill sergeants weren't so mean to them. They had to go through some physical training, nothing Jack wasn't used to. Though crawling through the mud and hauling himself over a wooden wall wasn't typically standard. 

Through it all, Isaac stuck close with him, almost immediately becoming his best friend on base. 

They ate together in the mess hall, and Jack began making new friends fairly easily. Even the more hardened individuals on base weren't immune to his charms. And his baby blues, soft golden hair, and sweet smile didn't hurt him either. New recruits who were undergoing training still weren't allowed to have anything off of the desert bar in the dining hall, but there were a few older women that took to sneaking him little snacks. Even though he 'complained' each time that he'd have to do an extra lap to make sure their kindness didn't get him too out of shape. They would always giggle, and sometimes give him a kiss on the cheek. 

He was always really good at making people like him. 

Isaac received similar amounts of generosity from their friends on base, though notably less than Jack. He just couldn't beat a cute midwestern boy with the personality of the sun. Whatever that meant, Isaac thought he was being poetic. 

Regardless of who else they convened with, whenever they had a spare moment they were always seen together. Everyone on base that witnessed their interactions couldn't deny that they got along remarkably well. One woman even approached Jack and talked to him for a moment or two, only addressing Isaac as 'his boyfriend,' before it finally clicked in his head and he laughed it off, blushing all the while. Even still, it did seem that Isaac was flirting with him a lot. Jack was never quick on the draw with that sort of thing, and he never wanted to assume lest he ruin their friendship with his dumb crush. 

Not that he would admit that he had a crush on Isaac if anyone asked him. 

So, the weeks of basic training went on. They were about to enter their third week on base...Endurance training. Amazingly enough, Jack and Isaac were not assigned as partners in the random draw. For a week Jack's ass was kicked as he learned to push himself harder than he ever had. Despite the fact that the previous two weeks seemed like a breeze, now he spent nearly every minute of every day feeling like he was going to drop dead. Meals with Isaac and some of their normal meal-time-friend-group were quiet. Aside from the few older members, they were all too exhausted to think of conversation. It didn't help that meal times were restricted to fifteen minutes of rest while they were training. 

After a week of that, they were relieved to be met with marksmanship training. Jack particularly excelled at this, beaming with all the attention his peers gave him before their drill sergeant yelled at him to wipe that look off his face. 

Despite all the hardships of training, Jack didn't mind it too much. He was used to communal showering because of the sports he had done in high school, and the meals there were better than the ones his old lunch ladies used to give them. He was doing well with all the weekly obstacle courses, becoming increasingly talented in shooting practice, and could follow directions like a son of a bitch. He was in his environment. The only complaint that he had to make was the weekly trims of his hair. Even that was tolerable, because whenever he came out of the barber station, Isaac would always give him a little smile and tell him he looked great. 

Ultimately, basic training was really great for him. 

He knew that not everyone felt the same way, and they had every right to hate it. He took everyone moaning and criticizing about their time there, and offered them a kind look and a few sympathetic words of comfort. After the passing of each week, Jack would smile and remind them that they only had seven more weeks of training left until graduation. Seven turned into six, turned into five, turned into four. Even though so many of their recruiting group was unhappy during this time, at least Jack was able to make things a bit more bearable. Once Isaac jokingly told him that he hated how easy it was for Jack and that he should suffer like the rest of the trainees, apologizing with a lighthearted snort when the blonde pouted at him. 

Their trails week was hell for some, but for Jack it was just routine. They all ran through the obstacle course multiple times, and whereas he managed to trip a good half of the occassions he ran it, by the end of that week he managed to pull into third place when the recruits raced. Their drill instructor patted him on the back and yelled that he almost did a half decent job, and that maybe his mother wouldn't be ashamed of him. Jack had the tiniest smile on his face because of the roundabout compliment that lasted straight until the next week.  

Camaraderie was as easy for him as marksmanship was. His easygoing personality didn't challenge any of his group that wanted to lead, nor did it offset any of the slackers. When things got tough for his mock-platoon, he was always the one to ease everyone through it. He was just naturally neutral in arguments.

Soon came the confidence training week. He struggled a bit with the foot marches, being as uncoordinated as he was sometimes, but pulled through. He was uncomfortable with the grenade training, and did alright with them, making a note to never use them unless he had to. He often would forget they were on his belt, and he was always so afraid that something would happen that would pull the pin out of the grenade when he wasn't paying attention. Everything passed without incident however, and he found his calling once again with the live fire exercises they were put through. By this time his physical fitness was among the best of his peers, and he could run and jump with the best of them. 

He was having almost a fun time during boot camp. He did well with being ordered around. It took all the pressure of making horrible mistakes off of him as long as he just did what the drill sergeants told him. He was beginning to think that nothing too bad would happen to him and that he could keep up with impressing his instructors, maybe even gain some small confidence in himself after spending so long in doubt. 

Everything changed during week eight though, when combat skill development section began. 

  

_\------------------------------------------_

 

He looked around himself, at all the new recruits. Some had faces that were bright and shining, and others looked about as dead inside as someone could get. A wonderful assortment. Even though he had only been there a short while compared to a lot of the other drill sergeants, he was put in charge of teaching the newbies' combat training. Not the worst job, but sometimes it was absolutely exhausting. 

Not because the physical aspects of it were hard. But because some of the recruits he had to look after were idiots. 

Gabriel had a high tolerance for dealing with people. He wasn't adored by nearly everyone on base for nothing after all. Sometimes though...Sometimes these kids had to be knocked down a peg or two. In some cases, they had to be knocked down a whole shit ton of pegs. 

Take the man currently opposite from Gabriel for example. He had dusty brown hair, and blazing green eyes. He had been the first to volunteer for trying to flip the sergeant, and he had done so with a snicker to his pals that it would be no problem. "I took two years of karate. I  _think_ I know what I'm doing." The boy stepped onto the mat, rolling his shoulders a few times and rocking his head from side to side. Just as Gabriel got into position, the jackass held up one finger and began crossing one arm over his chest, using the other to stretch it. This carried on for a whole thirty seconds, and the older man felt his eyes narrow considerably. 

Finally, with an overly-cocky grin, the white boy moved into the position that Drill Sergeant Reyes had instructed them on prior. He stood with his feet spread shoulder-width apart, arms nimble and at the ready by his sides. Not that it would help him any. 

Gabriel lept forward, and before the recruit even had time to raise his arms more than halfway, Gabriel swept out the other man's legs from under him, sending the brunette crashing onto the mat, moaning and rolling to his side. The older man dropped to a knee, playing one hand loosely around the other's neck to keep him in place, the other hand pushing down on his chest to restrict breathing. Just a little bit. 

"Well, you failed," he commented with a snort, standing up to face his students. He stretched out a hand to help the kid up, which was accepted with a small scowl. His next question of "who's next?" went unanswered for a beat or two until a girl raised her hand. Gabriel nodded for her to come forward, and this time when he went up against her he went a lot easier. He still knocked her down, but it was a lot more gentle. 

One by one the recruits practiced trying to flip the large man, and one by one they failed. It was understandable. None of them had gone through the training that Gabriel had. 

However not a single one of them were as cocky as the first kid that went up, desperate to avoid getting choked out by the drill sergeant. There was one boy that caught the slightly older man's attention. He was towards the back of the group, whispering quietly with a taller boy around his age. Until he let out a little laugh that he quickly covered with his hand, he had gone unnoticed by Gabriel. 

He was cute, he'd give him that. 

"You." 

The blonde raised his head at the bark, seeing that Gabriel's gaze was indeed directed at him. Still, he looked around himself quickly before clarifying, "me?" 

"Yep. Get out here. I'm sick of seeing all of you fail so you're going to be the first one who's gonna do it right." 

"Yes, sir!" If it weren't for the look of determination on his face, Gabriel might've assumed that the quip was sarcastic. As it were though, the boy quickly made his way to the ugly shaded blue mat, ignoring any comments of the group around him.  _Why does he get to be the one that doesn't look like a fucking idiot? It's fine, now he just looks like a loser._

Well, he tried to ignore the comments. His expression had changed from one of confidence to pure anxiousness. Gabriel felt bad about singling him out, knowing that now he'd have to deal with the backlash, but he was here to teach for a reason. He placed a hand on the blonde's shoulder, and gave him a grin, speaking at a volume that most of the crowd could hear. "Don't worry, man. I'm still going to kick your ass. Later though." 

To say he looked relieved would be a bit of an overstatement, but at least the nervous energy around him dampened. He moved into position, and Gabriel let him stay there for a moment, manually moving the kid's arrangement a slight bit so that he would actually be prepared to flip Gabriel safely. As he moved, he gave a loud and clear explanation to everyone in the gym, before nodding at the other man. Gabriel charged towards him, and—true to how he'd been ordered—managed to fling the larger man over his shoulder. The instructor landed with a roll and shot back to his feet, congratulating the recruit for being the first of them not to fuck up. 

"Nice, Jack!" Someone called from the back, and when Gabriel checked, it was the same boy the blonde had been with before. He also noticed that the boy had a sheepish smile on his face after the compliment was blurted out. 

Jack, huh? 

"Everyone's going to get into groups of two and practice the move I just showed you.  _Slowly_ and  _carefully._ I don't want anyone getting hurt on the first day. And before anyone asks, I'm picking the groups." 

Were they all still in high school there might have been a few groans, but Gabriel's command was met with a resounding, "SIR, YES, SIR!" Good. At least they could listen. 

For the most part the groups were picked on who matched who physically, as for their first day of combat training it seemed a little unfair to pit a scrawny boy with toothpick arms against possibly the most muscular woman he had ever seen. Within moments everyone was standing in pairs, and began to spread out so that members from other groups didn't accidentally interfere with pair. Gabriel had stuck Jack with a man a little bigger than him, and a little older, but he was confident the man could handle himself. 

After all of the recruits were settled, the drill sergeant felt about twenty pairs of eyes on him, all expectant and waiting on their next order. 

Damn was Gabriel glad he didn't have to train anyone within the first couple weeks of basic. 

"Everyone got a partner?" He was met with a chorus of 'yes's.' "Alright. Everyone's going to take turns being the attacker and defender. You'll switch every time someone gets flipped. Just get into the positions I showed you, and like I said before, take it slow and easy. Add dramatics if you want, I don't care. But if anyone gets hurt I'm going to kick your asses for fooling around. We clear?" 

"SIR, YES, SIR!" 

He nodded and stood with his hands placed behind his back in the circle of recruits. For the most part he would just observe now, only correcting someone if their form was wrong or if they were getting a little overzealous. At first, he was pleased with the progress he saw. There were a few people laughing quietly and joking around a bit, but as long as they were doing what they were told it was fine. However, when he heard a loud, "OOPH!" and turned to see a certain blonde on his back, staring up at the ceiling and trying really hard to breathe, he immediately dropped down to assist. 

"What the fuck did I say, Jack?" 

There was a wry grin on the blonde's face. "To not get hurt," he wheezed. 

"And what did you do?" 

"Get hurt." He pushed himself up so that he rested his upper body on his hands, and his partner reached out a hand to help him back up. Jack graciously took it and muttered "thank you." He turned to face Gabriel, even if he wouldn't let their eyes meet. "I uh. Kinda tripped." 

" _Kinda?_ " 

"Okay yeah I definitely tripped. And then twisted. And fell on my back." 

His partner nodded and added, "I didn't even touch him. Kid's an absolute menace to himself." Clearly though he found it a little funny if the smile on his face indicated anything. Jack shoved the other man and laughed. 

Gabriel's eyes narrowed, not quite deciding if he wanted to make Jack run a lap around the gym as punishment or not. "What's your last name?" 

"Uh, Morrison, Sir." 

"You sure you're good?" 

Morrison nodded and Gabriel clapped him on the shoulder. "Try not to kill yourself in the next half hour for the love of Christ." Both partners snickered at that, and the drill sergeant resumed his position in the middle of the mats. Maybe he was a little too trusting of Jack being able to take care of himself. 

The rest of the exercise went without incident. Gabriel looked over at Jack and his partner a few times to make sure the man wasn't mutilated in some way or another. He did have to stop a group from trying to do Judo kicks on each other, but they settled down with one sharp yell from him. After that he called everyone to come and gather around him for a demonstration once more, where he explained how you should stop yourself from getting thrown. 

Once again he dismissed them to practice on their own, and then it was time for the group of them to dissipate. Gabriel had the rest of the day off, and he was definitely ready for a nap. He headed to the locker rooms to wash up and gather his bag. Tomorrow he had to train this group for three hours longer than he had today, and he wasn't looking forward to it. All he wanted was some sleep before a meeting with the other drill sergeants for dinner. So of course, he heard someone call out, "Drill Sergeant Reyes?" as soon as he was about to leave the locker room. He tried not to let how tired he was show as he turned around with a quirked eyebrow. 

"Yeah?" 

Jack Morrison separated himself from the cluster of sweaty men and made his way over to Gabriel, nervous half-grin on his face. "I just wanted to apologize for causing a commotion earlier." 

"I wouldn't really say it was a commotion. But apology accepted. Anything else?" 

Whereas Gabriel was respected by his colleagues and generally seen as a friendly, funny guy, there was an air of authority he had to keep around recruits. Once they graduated basic training (and if Gabriel found them to be tolerable people) they could be pals. But for now, his voice did not lower from a moderate shout. 

Jack shook his head in response. 

"Get some lunch, Morrison. Be here at o-seven hundred sharp. You're dismissed." The blonde offered a jerky nod and turned around, walking back to the showers. Gabriel just hoped having to deal with his clumsiness wouldn't be a regular thing. Regardless, he still had a bed to get back to, so he hefted his bag onto his shoulder and finally departed from the smelly room. He passed a few of his friends on the way to his room and offered a greeting to each of them, but damn was he glad when he shut his own door behind him and could drop the bag to the floor in favor of throwing himself onto his bed. He shut his eyes and was asleep within minutes. 

 

\----------------

 

The next day was when everyone learned how to throw a punch. And how to block. And hopefully how not to invoke Gabriel's wrath. He also decided they should all introduce themselves by their last names, so at least if he needed to yell at someone he could know who was who. It wasn't as important the first day that they were all there, but combat skills drilling was only going to get harder, and there would be more risk of injuries. And if one recruit knocked the other out, it would be _delightful_  to let the nurses on base know just who managed to get themselves halfway into a coma. But today was easier. This time the demonstrations were kept to a minimum, and he paired the recruits off in different groups of two. It went well for a while with only the occasional bark from Gabriel to switch who was hitting. 

It went well for a _while._   

"Reyes!" Gabriel's attention snapped to the group member that had called out to him, and next to the man was Morrison, clutching his lip. 

"Oh Jesus Christ, what did you do?" The sergeant had explicitly ordered them to not aim for anywhere near the face when they were punching. The arm pads were there for a fucking reason. Everyone in the gym turned to look at what was going on, and Gabriel snapped at them to keep sparring. The expression on his face must have spelled murder, because when he approached, the man that had called out to him held up his hands in a sign of surrender. 

"'S not his fault." Gabriel turned his glare down to face Jack, who was just now standing up from his crouch. The noticeable midwestern drawl was even more accented by the small amount of blood coating his teeth. 

"You're shitting me." 

Both partners shook their heads. 

Gabriel sighed and ripped off his beanie to scrub a hand through his hair. He didn't want to ask. He really did not want to ask. But his damn job requirements stated that he needed to get to the the bottom of the issue. "How...The fuck...Did you manage this?" 

"I sneezed," was Jack's reply. Gabriel closed his eyes and sharply inhaled. Without opening his eyes, he motioned for Morrison to continue his explanation. "Collins was just about to punch towards my arm, and I just sneezed without warning. And I covered my mouth with my arm, and uh...He punched me in the lip. Not his fault though." 

"Morrison," he spoke slowly and carefully to emphasize his point. "Never in all my life have I heard of something as stupid as this happening. Get your ass to the infirmary-" 

"I'm okay!" Reyes once again raised an eyebrow, though this time there was a little bit of his lip that raised in a snarl with it. At this look, Jack corrected himself. "I'm sorry, sir, but I'm okay to keep going, I promise! It won't happen again!" Gabriel was torn between wanting to rip the trainee a new one for cutting him off in the middle of his sentence, but the look on Jack's face was so earnest and stubborn that he couldn't find it within himself. Not the kid's fault he was clumsy as hell. That one was probably on biology. 

"Fine. But I swear to god if you manage to hurt yourself one more time, I'm going to lock you in a closet. Got it?" Morrison nodded at that. "Good. Keep going. We've got an hour left." This time when he spoke, it was to all of the people in the gym. "SWITCH!" He waited until Jack took off the arm pads and handed them to his partner before leaving the two of them. True to his hopes and dreams, the rest of the practice went without anyone getting hurt. At least Morrison seemed to limit how often he caused some form of destruction to himself once a day. Reyes prayed that it stayed like that for the next week and five days. After that, the blonde wasn't his problem anymore. 

Finally the time for dinner arrived and Jesus Christ Gabriel was ready to just...Talk about how he could barely hold in his laughter earlier. He showered quickly and walked to the dining hall, intending to sit with his group of friends, hang out for a while, and call it a day.

As he was toweling off though, he saw Collins approach him. 

"Sir?" 

"Yep." Gabriel slipped on a pair of Army-issued sweats and pulled a shirt over his head before Collins spoke up again. 

"I'm uh, not gonna get in trouble for hitting Jack, right?" 

Briefly Gabriel had to connect Jack to Morrison. He had a lot of trainees whose names he needed to remember. Unless he was looking at their faces, it was hard to remember whose name was whose. "You're sure it was an accident?" The recruit nodded. "Then you're fine. If it looks really bad still by tomorrow, try and convince him to go see a doctor to get him stitches. He seems relentless though so good luck." 

"Thank you, sir." This time Gabriel nodded, and while Collins walked away, he slapped on his beanie and snagged his bag while walking out. He high-five'd their normal drill instructor as he left, wishing him good luck with a smile on his face. Within minutes he set his stuff down and flung himself into the seat his friends had left available for him. There were a few mechanics for the planes that they had in the group, and Gabriel was the only instructor there besides Damla Nassar. The rest of them were sergeants or general soldiers. They were all good people as far as Gabriel was concerned. 

"Hey, Gabe," three of them said in unison. The rest nodded, smiled, or waved in greeting. 

"Hey guys. Dinner bearable tonight?" 

"They've got what they think passes for Mexican tonight. And chicken. Desert's good though."

Gabriel groaned. "You know, you'd think they'd learn how to add some seasoning since just about every chicano on base has complained about it." Rosita shrugged, and pointed her spoon at him. 

"Not everyone's mamá was a chef you know. Some of us don't know what 'good Mexican food' is." 

"What a sad thought. But Mamá wasn't a chef." 

"Bullshit, Gabrielito, I've had her cooking. Lady could be a chef if she damn well chooses." Everyone else at their table either wasn't Latino, or wasn't paying attention to their conversation. Gabriel snorted and stood up to get a plate. Despite his griping, he put two enchiladas on his plate, and snagged a bottle of hot sauce. He wasn't going to touch the unseasoned chicken however, and skipped right towards the homemade brownies. Every day twenty army wives and husbands baked together for hours on end to supply the people on base with something sweet to look forward to for lunches and dinner. Gabriel had never met any one of them, but every single day he sent a prayer of thanks to them. 

He grabbed a bowl for his salad and perched it preciously on his plate, filling it with lettuce and cheese, added a few toppings, then drenched it in dressing. At least there was no way to fuck up a salad. At least, no way that he had seen yet. 

As he returned to his table and set his food down, Rosita stood up and pointed an accusatory finger at him. "SELLOUT!" She had a thing for pointing, Gabriel had come to realize when they met. Probably something she picked up from Nassar. 

"I'm not a sellout." He smacked her finger away and retreated for a moment to snag a coke and sat back down. "It smells like they put at least one spice in there. It's a step up." Still though, the woman across from him mouthed  _sellout_ as he cut up one piece and put it in his mouth. As expected, there was no kick to it, but at least it tasted decent. He spilled some sauce on the side of his plate, and focused his attention on his salad. Nassar elbowed him right as he was about to put a forkful in his mouth, and he glared at her when he had to wipe chipotle dressing from his nose. 

"Sorry. How'd the recruits do today though? You know I escorted some of them on their first day on base." She looked proud of that, as if she had trained any of his group at all. He exchanged an eye roll with another of his friends, Birdy. Now that everyone's eyes were on him though, he felt compelled to answer. The lot of them knew he oversaw their combat training, and sometimes he had funny stories. 

Such as today for example. "It was alright, pretty boring." Rosita let out a sound of disappointment before he cracked a smirk. "Except one kid, got knocked in the mouth today." 

"Ooo, how come? Was he 'mouthing off?'" Nassar's shit-eating grin was enough to let them know it was a pun, just not a good one. 

"Shut up." Birdy, out of all of them, hated her lame jokes. 

"Sorry," she replied, then looked to Gabriel to continue. 

"...Anyway, he gets hit in the mouth, and I walk over, all ready to yell at his partner for being a jackass. The one that got hit seems like a nice enough kid, but I don't know what he could've done. I get over there, probably all pissed looking, and he throws up his hands like this-" he stopped talking to imitate Collins, just with a funny look on his face to make the group with him laugh. "And he's like 'it wasn't my fault!' Or something like that. Then Morrison—the one who got clocked—stood up and says, 'No, it really wasn't his fault. I sneezed.' At that point I was wondering how the hell he could split his lip by sneezing, but then he tells me that when he sneezed it was in the middle of his partner's punch, and right his fist went into Morrison's mouth. I have never been so astounded." Rosita was giggling like a mad woman, and Nassar looked like she was thinking about something while the rest of the group either laughed or moaned about how dumb the kid in his story was. 

"Morrison you said? I think he was on one of the buses I unloaded. Cute blonde, right?" 

"Yeah." 

"Aww, you think he's cute!" He made a pointed look at Rosita and she snickered. 

Nassar ignored her and continued. "He is one clumsy son of a bitch." 

"Tell me about it. Yesterday when we were going over flips, he managed to trip and fall right on his ass." 

"Lives up to the stereotype then, huh?" Birdy asked. 

"Which one?" Gabriel knew the answer, but he wanted the idiot to say it. 

"About the blondes." 

Dabney, a highly intelligent blonde woman, elbowed him right in the ribs. He let out a very audible  _oof,_ and struggled to catch his breath for a moment. 

"Serves you right, dumbass" Gabriel said. Everyone else nodded gravely. 

The rest of their dinner together was moderately peaceful. Nassar had to threaten death upon Rosita if she flicked her mashed potatoes at her, but other than that there were no other incidences. Gabriel joined them in the recreation room for a little while and played a few games of pool. He won one against Birdy, and then immediately lost to Dabney, losing again to another friend right after. He was tempted to play a few games of air hockey when offered, but he decided sleep was more important to him then. He had to be up at five each morning to get ready for training, and if going to sleep at eight each night was the only thing keeping him sane, then so be it. His friends bid him goodnight, and he shuffled back to his room. Tomorrow was going to be another long day for him.


	3. Watch

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> as always, if you see any spelling/grammar mistakes, or any inaccuracies please let me know! 
> 
> you can follow me at [tumblr](http://whillowed.tumblr.com/) for updates, send me questions, submit stuff, or whatever you want to be there for! i also have a twitter that im just now opening up [here!!](https://twitter.com/maxalackin) im a loooot more active as far as talking on there goes but either works!
> 
> me and iridian have a playlist on spotify for reaper76 which you can find [here!](https://open.spotify.com/user/22ohf35fkcwkxrtd7vygohata/playlist/3cLNB4KHtJBdPUhe5gbEPC)
> 
> feel free to comment with questions, concern, or general comments! i love to hear from you guys and i'll get the next chapter up as soon as i can! thanks for reading!

To say that Jack was a terrible fighter would be an understatement.

The third day of their combat training involved sparring. Even though he had on all the padding that was _not_ required (at Reyes's demand), he left the gym covered in bruises. One particularly embarrassing moment involved him being chopped in the neck by a woman half his size, sending him to his knees, wheezing horribly. Reyes had glanced over with a look of disdain on his face. Right then and there Jack had made peace with the fact that this drill sergeant would never be impressed by anything Jack showed him. Not because he was needlessly mean, but because Jack had nothing to offer the man. He'd passed classes he probably shouldn't have by sucking up to the teachers, but there was no disguising the fact that he absolutely could not handle himself in hand-to-hand combat.

He would either pass this two week long portion of basic training, or he would have to start it all over again. No amount of ass-kissing could save him this time.

Jack sat in the locker room, absolutely miserable. He jumped with a start and a low moan of pain when Isaac slapped his back just a little too hard for the bruise that was blossoming there. Isaac sat next to him with an apologetic smile. "Sorry about that. You doing okay? You seem a little off."

The blonde snickered. "Have you seen me the past three days? This ain't any worse. Just a hell of a lot more painful." Isaac rubbed the spot he had hit a minute before gently, standing up and motioning to the showers with his head.

"We should probably hurry. Drill instructor's gonna be here in about ten minutes and he probably won't wait for you to get dinner." The look in Jack's pretty blue eyes was pitiful. Isaac added after a moment, "I'd wait for you though."

"Even if it meant missing dinner and getting yelled at?" It was such a childish question that Jack could barely stop himself from flinching. 

"Yeah," Isaac answered with a grin regardless, and Jack stood up, limping just a little bit to the showers. He hadn't hurt his ankle, but his right thigh was so much more sore than it had any right to be after he was thrown to the mat. For about the tenth time that day. Once they were out of basic training, he doubted that they would need to be timed for their showers, but it was so ingrained in him now that he didn't know if he'd ever be able to break out of that habit. One minute to put shampoo in his hair, one minute to rinse. Two minutes to soap off, two minutes to rinse. One minute to finish anything else up. Three minutes to dry off and get dressed. At first it was hard because he was so used to being able to stand under the warm water and rest his head against the wall for a long while. But then again the water at home wouldn't turn freezing cold in about 4 seconds flat, so he learned how to speed the process up a bit.

In fact the short hair cuts they were forced to maintain during training cut his shampooing and rinsing time down by a minute, so he was even able to take his time toweling off in the locker room. As usual Reyes was out of the changing room faster than any of them. Jack had half a mind to call out to him and apologize yet again for just...Sucking in general, but he figured it would be more of a nuisance than anything to their instructor. So he let the desire slide.

Reyes seemed like a nice guy once you got to know him. At least that's what Jack thought. He acted exasperated with his group often, but Jack knew that was because he was supposed to be teaching them how to fight when they didn't have a weapon in their hand, teaching them how to survive in the worst of circumstances. So Jack cut him some slack.

Besides that, Isaac was out of the shower and putting on his clothes next to him. Jack threw on his fatigue pants and khaki colored t-shirt. He flicked his dog tags outside the hem of it, and set to lacing up his boots when their drill sergeant came in the room and announced that they had sixty seconds to get their ass in gear for the mess hall. Jack finished tying his shoes about the same time Isaac did, and they filed out with everyone else.

Just outside the door their drill sergeant, Washington, was counting them off as they left the locker room. "Trebuchet, Collins, Russo, Morrison, Hong..." He went on after Jack and Isaac were out in the hall, but neither paid much attention. Once everyone was accounted for, they marched in a straight line to the mess hall.

Sitting with their fellow recruits was an important procedure that the higher-ups stressed constantly. Whereas the trainees all had to sit at the same few tables, older people on base weren't forbidden from sitting with them. Hence why Jack, Isaac, and a few other select friends were surrounded by post-trainees. The first few times it happened, their drill instructor seemed a little put-off by it, but since then Washington had calmed down considerably. Either that or he had given up pretending to care. Whichever.

"Jesus, Morrison. What happened to your neck? Someone give you a hickey?"

"What?" He doe-eyed at the man sitting across from him, prompting a laugh from the other. Jack's hand immediately went to his neck, but before he could explain his friend continued.

"Hong give that to you?"

As Jack's eyes widened even further, Isaac slung an arm around Morrison's shoulders and pulled him close. "Of course, man. Who else?" Jack blushed something awful and Isaac looked down at him with a smile. Isaac released him, not wanting to make Jack more uncomfortable than he was. "Nah. A girl he was training with took a cheap shot at him. Right under his head guard. She was like, eight feet tall right? And had robot hands. Reyes chewed her out for hitting his precious pupil."

"No he absolutely did _not_ , I'm pretty sure Reyes hates me. And try, like, five feet tall."

"He doesn't hate you, no one could. And I'm trying to make you look cool, Jack. Come on, let me get to the part where you had to fight off thirty ninjas to save the kingdom." Jack snorted once and quickly lost the battle against his giggle. Ten minutes of their allotted dinner time had already passed, and he set about trying to inhale the rest of his chicken burger. He still had a few fries and a Coke to finish. Isaac followed suit, shoving the rest of his food in his mouth and the two of them were done within seconds. They still had a few minutes to talk with everyone around them, which involved more teasing about the fact that Morrison had to wear the headgear during sparring practice on the third day. Isaac came to his defense and insisted that the headgear was to constrict his powers otherwise he'd kill everyone in that room. It was cheesy, but it didn't go unappreciated.

He didn't want to admit to all of his peers that Reyes all but forced the gear onto him to avoid a fatal injury.

Washington popped up and called out to all that fell under his command, and with a start, thirty men and women leapt from their seats, disposed of their trash, and followed the man out in an orderly fashion. They had an hour of free time in the rec room—Washington's gift to them—and then a few hours of boot shining, rifle cleaning, room cleaning, and bathroom cleaning, then they could be in bed by midnight if they were lucky. Jack couldn't remember the last night he got a decent amount of sleep, but then again that didn't much matter to him anymore. His body had adjusted to being able to haul himself out of bed on less than five hours of sleep. Wouldn't his mother be proud of that.

They played a few rounds of pool, then Richards set up their air hockey table. For not winning a single game, Jack was a remarkably good sport. Years of being awful at sports and games had humbled him. Isaac promised that he would 'avenge him' and proceeded to win every single game against the people Jack had just lost to. Despite how hard the day was, the blonde couldn't wipe the smile off his face as Isaac pointed at him each time and declared, "I'm doing this for you, babe!" The pet name was not lost on him, but Jack figured it was just a friendly term.

No use getting his hopes up about it.

The last little bit of their free hour was spent coaxing Jack to play one last game against Twofer, a man who had been a soldier on base for six years now. Morrison agreed, and their group cheered, herding him to the table before he could change his mind. Twofer cracked his knuckles and grinned maliciously, handing Richards the puck. Jack released a loud sigh of air and shook his arms a little to try and get the tension out. Twofer was known for being almost excessively competitive, and he wasn't above purposefully smashing the puck into the other player's fingers. Cortez was still nursing a swollen finger after Twofer sent the hard piece of plastic crashing right into her nail bed. Jack looked to the side of himself, and Isaac gave him a thumbs up before Richards whistled, and dropped the puck into the middle of the table.

Jack was positively not going after it right away, and instead let the other man rocket it towards the hole on Jack's side. Reflexively, the younger man's arm twitched, and it was enough to send the puck right back into Twofer's goal with no resistance, astounding the both of them.

"Holy shit. Did I just score one?"

Cortez used her good hand to clap him on the shoulder. "Do it again! And then again nineteen more times. You got this, Morrison!"

"Shaddup," quipped Twofer.

They continued playing until Jack had racked up eighteen points, and Twofer fourteen. Washington had come into the room a few minutes ago, but a fellow drill sergeant begged him to let the two men play for fifteen more minutes. In all of their weeks there, none of them had seen Jack win anything, Were there a competition for their marksmanship, he could probably win that one, but there wasn't so he was resigned to getting beaten in pool, air hockey, foosball, actual soccer, and so on.

He hit the puck so that it crashed into the wall and bounced off, and Twofer in his haste to block, managed to send the thing into his goal. He roared, " _FUCK,_ " until he caught Washington's look. He muttered it once more under his breath, and handed the puck once more to Richards. The man dropped it in the middle, and it was volleyed for a few moments until ultimately residing in the little hole in Twofer's side. He let out a string of swears once more and snarled at Jack. Isaac stepped forward, but Morrison grabbed his arm and smiled just a little at him. He understood why the man across from him was so angry. The rare times he lost anything he always got like this. He had a history of anger management, and had only recently learned to overcome taking it out on other people.

For the first time in weeks it felt like, Jack was determined. He would win this and prove that he could do _something_ , even if it was as useless as air hockey. Richards held onto the glow-in-the-dark disk for a few beats, looking each of them in the eye. "If Jack scores this, then he wins. But you're only a few points behind, Twofer, you could catch up. Who. Will be. America's Next Top-"

"Just shut the hell up and put the fucking thing down." Richards did so, and Twofer was so fast that he leaned bodily against the table, shoving the disk into Jack's goal before the younger man could even blink. "YEAH-HA! Twenty-fifteen."

Twofer managed to score four more points in a matter of seconds. When he sank the fifth point in, tying them, Jack let out a soft little oh. He looked so utterly defeated and lost, any confidence he had vanished instantly. Their entire game had taken about ten minutes but Jack began to feel like it was lasting a lifetime. He wanted so badly to score that last point, to finally win something. Everyone that had gathered around the table to watch was cheering him on. Though if they were doing it for their friendship with him, out of pity, or simply because they hated Twofer that much was unclear.

Isaac put his hand gently on Jack's, and waited until he looked up at him before speaking. "You can do this." Jack nodded, and Isaac moved back. Richards once more held the puck up, though this time simply nodding at the blonde before setting it down.

It was sent flying towards Jack's goal, but he managed to push it out of the way, sending it into the wall once more. It slid back and forth between the plastic barriers repeatedly before Twofer finally hit it back. It was probably the longest volley they had, and Jack finally managed to shoot it straight across the table. It was in the goal! Just as he was about to throw his arms in the air in victory, Twofer slammed his paddle down, and trapped the very edge of it before it could sink in. He dragged it out, and Jack waited for it to come towards his goal. Instead of doing a straight shot, the other man bounced it against the wall, and it ricocheted once, twice, and finally fell into Jack's goal. Jack's hand was just a second too slow.

Twofer threw his paddle down and hollered, running around the table to get into Jack's face.

He was a sore winner.

Jack said nothing, simply put on a strained smile, and Isaac shoved the man away from Jack. Richards slammed his fist into the older man's arm, and Cortez made to comfort Jack before Washington yelled, 'ENOUGH!" Every person in the room snapped to attention, even the ones not participating in the air hockey viewing. "You're fifteen minutes over time. I've allowed that but I won't give you any more. All of my recruits, we are leaving."

The lot of them gathered together and followed the huge man out of the room.

"See ya later, Morrison! Hope I didn't hurt your feelings too much!" Jack said nothing, but he did hear the loud slap of skin against skin, and then Twofer's yelp of pain. He didn't turn around to see what had happened.

Isaac didn't say anything to him until they were all left to clean up. He sat on a box next to Jack's and polished his shoes quickly. Jack's movements were slowed, noticeably so. "Hey." He nudged Jack with his knee. Morrison didn't look up at first, until Isaac nudged him again and repeated his greeting. Finally Jack looked up, a far-away look in his eyes before he cleared it and planted a friendly look on his face. "You okay?"

"Yeah, man. I'm fine."

"You're not acting fine." Isaac didn't know if he saw Jack's lip quiver briefly or if that was just a figment of his imagination. Jack didn't say anything after that, just scratched his arm absently and picked up his other boot. The first one wasn't done yet, so Isaac set his finished pair down and took it upon himself to finish cleaning the one Jack had abandoned. He made a grab for it, but Isaac held it out of his reach. "I can do this one. Mine were clean and if I don't do something I'll be bored." Jack reached for it again but the other man held it even further away from him. "It's okay, Jack. I'll do it, don't worry about it. I promise I won't mess it up too much."

If Jack wasn't talking to him, there was something very wrong. Hong knew better to pry though. If Jack didn't want to talk about it, then he didn't want to talk about it. If he was made to though, he'd be as likely to burst into tears as...Well, anything really.

Inwardly, Jack felt awful. He finally had a chance to prove himself and give everyone a reason to be rooting for him. Give Isaac a reason to be rooting for him. He bit his lip before it could tremble too much. He wanted to cry. Oh god he wanted to cry. It was just a stupid game, one that he'd have plenty of opportunities to win in the future. But that's not why I'm upset, is it? He thought about that for a moment, spending perhaps too long scrubbing one area of his boot. Isaac gently took it from his hands and started working on it. This time Jack didn't protest.

It wasn't because of the air hockey game that he was upset. He was accustomed to failure.

It was that he finally had a chance to do one thing right, to make someone, _anyone_ , proud. And threw it away. It was that he had gone through basic training finally proving to some people that he wasn't worthless, that he found what he was good at and could do well. And then as soon as he started combat training, he was reminded of the fact that no, he wouldn't make it. The image of being told by the base commander that he was being discharged before he even had a chance to graduate training kept running through his head. _If you can't make it through basic fucking training, then you have no reason to be in the army_ , is what the man inside Jack's head would say.

For the first time since he arrived on base, he felt a deep aching in his heart that just made him want to go home so desperately he could taste it.

His breathing sped up a bit, and vaguely he realized he was about to have an anxiety attack when Isaac put a hand on his knee. He wouldn't hear what the other man was saying at first but when he heard his name being repeated he made sure to listen.

"Hey. Jack, Jack are you okay? What's wrong?"

Jack shook his head, opening his mouth to speak. His lips were dry and he couldn't force more than a squeak past them. He coughed once and tried again, and could only say "I..." before his eyes welled up. "Is this about the game tonight? Look, you did awesome and I'm so sorry Twofer's such a cock. You'll get your chance again! Everyone was really proud of you for even going up against him for that long, especially with the way he fucked up Cortez's-"

"No."

"N...No?"

"Not about the game." Jack sighed heavily, breath hitching. He wiped his eyes to get rid of the tears that were threatening to spill over. How could he voice that no one ever believed in him for a reason? That no matter what he was going to fuck up anything he had going for him. That Isaac should give up on him too. How could he explain that he thought that everyone that was friends with him only did so out of pity, and that they truthfully found him annoying and stupid and a waste of fucking air. How could he tell Isaac that he thought all these things about himself too.

So instead he kept his mouth shut, looking away pointedly. Isaac took the hint and ceased his questioning, instead getting off the box to kneel in front of Jack, moving into his line of sight.

"You don't have to tell me everything if you don't want to. But just know that I'm here for you, okay?" Isaac's sweet brown eyes looked so earned and sincere that Jack couldn't help but believe him a little bit. He nodded quickly, wiping away a stray tear from his right cheek. Isaac stood up, and handed Jack his finished boot. "Nice and shiny, just like I promised. Look, Jack, if you're not feeling well maybe you can tell Washington. He seems to like you more than a lot of the rest of us, I'm sure he'll let you."

"I'm fine." His voice came out softer that he meant it to. Isaac put a hand on Jack's shoulder, and he finally lifted his eyes from staring at the ground.

"I'm here for you."

Isaac didn't know how much those words meant to him.

 

\------------------------------------------

 

Morrison was slower than usual today. His partner had already beaten him into submission twice, and the exercise had started less than half an hour ago. Upon closer examination, the blonde's eyes looked red and puffy, like he had been crying. Or at the least wanted to. 

_Shit._

"Morrison, over here." Jack's head perked up and he made eye contact with Gabriel to make sure that yes, the drill sergeant was talking to him, before heading over. Gabriel called out to Jack's partner to take a quick water break.

"Yes, sir?"

"Alright, come on. What's up with you today? You're not the greatest fighter I've ever seen, but normally you can at least take some hits before going down."

Jack snorted. "I'm the _worst_ fighter you've ever seen, aren't I?"

"You are absolutely without a doubt the worst. Doesn't mean I'm not going to help you." Morrison looked down at the ground and bit his lip. He kept his face expressionless, but the dark circles under his eyes gave away the fact that the man was weary. Not just tired. Hell, every single person on base was tired. But Morrison looked like he had been taken around the back of a barn and punched in both eyes. Maybe the barn was a bit too much of a stereotype for the slight southern twang in his voice he had, but whatever. "If you want, I can talk to Washington, and we can start setting you up with some private lessons?"

Immediately the trainee started shaking his head. "I don't want to take away from your free time or anything, I can get better!"

"I've been waiting for you to get better for almost a week now. It's okay to just admit you need help, alright? I don't mind it. They gave me this job because I was willing to teach and if one of my students isn't doing well then I need to fix that. No soldier left behind and all that shit." Jack's answering smile seemed timid, but grateful nonetheless.

Reyes's attention shifted briefly to shout at a group that was getting a bit too rough, and once they settled down he fixed his gaze back on the man in front of him. "I won't force you to come and spar with me, but I do think it can really help you. Unless this whole thing has been a joke and you're actually Jackie Chan reincarnated, or you can see yourself shaping up fast, I really recommend it. Washington won't care at all if that's what you're worried about, and you can still get dinner and everything."

"I..." he trailed off for a moment, then shook his head. "No, you're right. I don't see myself getting any better without help."

Despite himself, Gabriel offered a comforting grin and a pat on the upper arm. "We're gonna get you through this, alright? Now get some water real quick-like." he joked while mocking the other's accent. "And get back to your partner." Jack nodded with a small chuckle, and as he retreated he offered a quiet thank you.

Whatever Gabriel said to Morrison must've helped him at least somewhat. He was less sluggish than he was previously and actually managed to block a hit. Of course, the punch that followed after the first knocked him right in the chest, but Reyes was...Almost proud of him for managing just that. Morrison seemed like a sweet kid, and Gabriel would make him a semi-decent fighter if it fucking killed him.

Gabriel hadn't been a drill sergeant for long. Only about a year in fact, but he had seen many groups of trainees come and go. Some were worse than others, and some were almost beyond Gabriel's own skill level. But never had he seen someone as awkward and slow as Jack. He could see that Morrison was strong, and had a good build. But he didn't know what to do with himself. He would try and block a punch that was aimed higher than where he was shielding himself. As Gabriel watched, he made sure to note everything that he would want to go over with Jack as soon as they were alone.

After another little while the drill instructor called them over so that he could demonstrate a few different types of kicks that they would be using, in order to take advantage of their lower body movement instead of just punching...punching...And the occasional accidental slap. Gabriel sent a silent prayer to whatever god was listening that Jack wouldn't fall flat on his ass as soon as Gabriel sent them off. He had them switch partners, this time their choice.

What seemed like without even a split second's pause, Hong and Morrison all but ran to each other. The taller man had a huge smile on his face, and Jack even began to match it. Gabriel forced his attention away from them to watch the rest of his students pair off in the gym. There was only one group that he could foresee a problem with, and they agreed to an exchange of group members easily enough. Thankfully everyone seemed to be tired enough to not give Reyes any problems, and Jack even managed to stay on at least one foot the entire time. At least when he was up against his friend, the other man seemed to take care of Morrison. Not go out of his way to beat him. He even saw Hong let Jack land a few light hits on him. Again Reyes found himself focusing too much on the blonde man, and he glanced at his watch. He whistled sharply as soon as he read it, announcing that it was time for everyone to hit the showers.

As trained to, everyone was cleaned and dressed in just about fifteen minutes. As soon as Morrison made a reappearance in the locker room, Reyes approached him. "Hey." Jack turned around, and waved a little to indicate that Gabriel was heard. "I'll talk to Washington now. Don't worry about anything tonight, and I'll talk to you tomorrow, alright?"

"Okay. Um...Thank you again."

"Don't worry about it." With that Gabriel left the humid chamber. He found Jeziah Washington outside easily enough, as the large man was about two inches from Gabriel's face as soon as he opened the door.

"They give you any trouble today, Reyes?" They bumped fists in greeting and Gabriel leaned against the wall next to his fellow drill instructor.

"You know Morrison, right?" It was an obvious starter question, of course Washington knew Jack Morrison. Washington bobbed his head and raised an eyebrow.

"What about him?"

Gabriel scratched at his facial hair. He didn't want to throw the trainee under the bus, or announce that he was having particular troubles. But if he was going to ask Washington's permission to let one special recruit have extra time training, then he guessed he had to. "Look, he tries so _fucking_ hard—"

"I know."

"Yeah. He's just...He's not cutting it in this section. I saw in his records that he did fair enough, or even really well, in marksmanship and other shit, but here? He's not doing so hot. I asked him if he would want a few more lessons—you know, one-on-one—and he said it might help. So I told him I'd ask you if you'd let me borrow him for an hour...Or more after dinner. He really wants to pass this."

Washington seemed a bit lost for a proper response. "Just how bad is he?"

"Awful. Like really terrible," Gabriel confirmed.

The larger man hummed thoughtfully for a moment. ""Nassar's gonna adore the hell out of him once he graduates basic. You said a couple hours each night?" Gabriel nodded. "And you'd send him right back to clean up the barracks?" Gabriel repeated the motion. "And you'll take over my early morning running group for a week?"

Before Gabriel fully realized what he was agreeing to, he gestured in the affirmative once again. "Wait, shit, no you fucker—"

"Too late!" Washington cackled. "Your terms and conditions have been accepted, Reyes, we have a deal!" As the man slipped into the locker room, Gabriel groaned and slumped further down the wall. He allowed himself a few seconds for mourning the future loss of his sleep, and pushed himself up. He made his way to the mess hall and prayed that this whole stunt would pull itself off.

 

\----------------

   


Gabriel woke up at four that morning with a loud groan. He hated this, he really hated this.

It took him a disgustingly long time to actually get up and get himself into gym shorts and an ARMY t-shirt. He ran his hand through his curly hair before frowning, making a note that soon he would need another hair cut soon. He shoved his beanie onto his head and laid back down. At least waking up an hour earlier than he needed to meant that he could take a quick nap before having to officially get up.

He really hated this.

When his alarm went off his second time, he was pulled from the half-sleep he had managed and rolled over to moan into his pillow. Gabriel couldn't remember the last time he had to wake up before seven-thirty in the morning, and all of this was because of stupid Washington.

He hated Jeziah more than he hated the morning right now for making him do this.

Of course, if he had really pitched a fit the other instructor would've taken over his regular morning runs no problem, but Gabriel was a man of his word. Even if his word was given by accident. He sat up in his cot, elbows resting on his knees as he rubbed his eyes. There was no coffee at five in the morning. 

Or at least there was no coffee he was willing to drink. Instead he sucked it up and left the comfort of his room.

Soon enough he groggily made his way to a handful of soldiers and recruits that hated themselves enough to willingly get up at this hour. No doubt the majority of them were confused as to why Drill Sergeant Reyes showed up instead of their usual Drill Sergeant Washington, but they followed his command of "Let's go, no slacking," well enough.

The run was set to be four miles, twice around this section of the base. By the end of it, Gabriel was fighting against the need to fall to his knees and wheeze. He congratulated the group on a job well done, and rushed to the nearest water fountain. He must've spent over a minute there, desperately gulping down as much water as the small fountain would spit out. There was probably more than one person judging him that morning, but he couldn't find it in himself to care. When he finally made his way to the cafeteria to grab a few cups of coffee (compared to his usual one or two), he ran into Washington. The older man greeted him with a smug smile, and Gabriel could do no more than glare.

"How'd it go?"

"I hate you."

"Believe it or not, I get that a lot."

Gabriel sat down at a table, where his 'friend' sat across from him. He took a sip of his coffee and grimaced at the heat. "Somehow I don't doubt that."

Washington faked a look of hurt. "Oh come on, I'm a lovable guy."

"Tell that to your recruits." Gabriel's second sip was much more tolerable, considering how he had already burned off all his taste buds.

"They don't have to like me. I've got a job to do and I do it. Besides that, as far as drill instructors go, I'm one of the nicer ones."

He nodded in acknowledgement. "Yeah, yeah I know." They said nothing for a little while, Gabriel's fatigue catching up with him once again, and Washington was more of a listener usually anyway. Gabriel continued to drink his coffee, and Washington went up and got a plate full of sausage and eggs. Reyes wanted something to eat, but he wasn't sure how food would agree with his stomach when he began to work on his second cup of caffeine. But when Nassar showed up with hash browns, Gabriel decided enough was enough and went to grab his own food. While he was in line, he saw Morrison from across the room.

Of course, he should have known that the blond would be there if his drill instructor was, but it was still a little surprising when the recruit began waving to him. Gabriel, before he could stop himself, waved back. It was...Most likely unprofessional to say the least, but he blamed that on the lack of sleep. He quickly set his face and turned back towards the line, which finally allowed him to snag some scrambled eggs, sausage and hash browns. Once he deemed that the entire tray covered in food was enough for him, he made his way back to his friends. 

Nassar had this look on her face that Gabriel knew was going to mean a whole lot of pain in his ass for him. "Who were you waving at?" She drew out the last word in a sing-song tone, and Gabriel decided it was too early for him to deal with this. 

He kept his mouth shut until she began prodding him with her foot under the table. "Come on, you can tell us!" To his chagrin, Washington even looked interested. "You had this dopey look on your face." 

"It's because I had to get up early. I didn't even mean to wave at him, he just caught me off guard." 

" _Who_ caught you off guard?" 

She nearly outright kicked him when he shrugged and didn't answer any besides that. "Reyes." She said his name with such warning in her voice that Gabriel nearly shuddered. Jeziah blinked pointedly at him just once. 

"If I tell you will you stop assaulting me?" She nodded fervently. "I was just waving at Morrison because he waved first. I need to talk to him later anyway, that was probably just what it was about." 

"Do you like him?" 

Gabriel finished chewing his food and took a quick drink before responding. He was getting real sick of this topic real fast, but he knew that she wouldn't drop it otherwise. "He's just a trainee." 

"I didn't hear no." 

He sighed loudly, and Washington snorted. "No, Nassar, I don't like him. No. He's just a recruit right now, I'm training him. He waved, I was tired so I waved back. Jesus, ever since you hooked Ramie and Clackers together you've been relentless about 'finding romance for everyone.'" Washington muttered in agreement while Nassar pouted. Gabriel continued to eat and sip his now lukewarm coffee. Nothing quite spelled disappointment like a cold brew. 

"I'll have you know they got married recently and their ceremony was  _beautiful._ Just over two years they've been together now! Excuse me for trying to find you someone." He knew she was a little hurt by his curt attitude. 

"Look, I'm sorry. I know you're trying to help. We good?" 

"Yeah, we're good." 

Washington had been silent nearly this whole time before a slow smile spread across his face. "So guess who Reyes is giving private lessons to all this week." Immediately Nassar lit up, and her mouth opened to no doubt tease him even more about this. 

"I  _hate you."_  Reyes concluded, and scowled as he tried to finish his meal with some semblance of peace. 

 

\----------------

 

The lessons that day went pretty well. Reyes was pleased to note that not once did Jack Morrison manage to get himself incredibly damaged. Granted, he had taken to making the younger man pad himself up to the point where his movements were restricted, but hey. If he didn't end up with a concussion or a broken bone by the end of their two weeks then Gabriel would count that as a job well done. 

Letting them pick their own partners at the end of the day was proving to be a good move. Though it wasn't his job to make sure his recruits had fun, Gabriel could remember how hard combat training was when he started in basic. The last hour that his drill sergeant had let them  _almost_ come  _close_ to  _partially_ goofing off took off so much stress of the day. It also helped keep the groups he had from messing around too much the rest of the day if they had something to look forward to. 

Gabriel watched two girls alternate pulling each other into headlocks and quietly laughing the entire time. Today he had taught them a few different holds they could practice on someone else to subdue them. The next day he would teach them the rest of the holds, and the next day would be practice. After that they only had a few days left of his section. 

He was beginning to think that he would miss some of them. 

During his quick survey of his students, he noticed that Morrison was whining when Hong wouldn't let him out of a light chokehold. Gabriel was about to yell to him them to cut it out when he saw the smile blooming on the blonde's face. Gabriel looked away more sharply than he would care to admit. 

When the end of their time in the gym came, Gabriel whistled loudly and felt every single pair of eyes in that room snap to him. As usual, he gave them a quick briefing and sent them to the locker rooms. "Morrison." 

Said man turned back around and hung back from the men and women racing to the showers. "Yes, sir?" 

"Washington—if he didn't already tell you—approved our extra training time if you're still interested." He saw Jack nod quickly. "So...If we're going to be sparring later I don't see much use in you taking a shower now, but that's up to you." 

Jack made a face and Gabriel had to keep himself from snickering. Gabriel slapped him on the shoulder once and they both began to head toward the locker room. Since Reyes did about a tenth of the work the rest of them did during the days, his showers were always quick and easy. Just a quick rub down with some soap, careful not to get his hair wet except when he washed it every other day, and a rinse and he was done. He toweled off quickly and left to wait for Washington to show up and collect his recruits. When he leaned against the wall like usual, he let his head drop back so it rested against the cement blocks with the rest of him. He closed his eyes briefly until he heard a soft "Sir?" 

His eyes turned to see who was addressing him while his head stayed in place. 

"I just wanted to say thanks in advance. For uh...You know." 

"Yeah, I know. And really, it's not a problem. It's just an extra couple hours where I wouldn't be doing anything." He offered up a slight quirk of his lips at the side and saw Morrison shuffle his feet nervously. His hair was dry, but there were still a few water droplets on his brows. So he didn't wash his hair then, just like Gabriel hadn't. "Is there anything else?" 

Morrison opened his mouth and closed it once, then again. "It's um. It's nothing." He took a half step away before Gabriel stopped him. 

"If you're worried you're not going to do well, we'll work on it. Okay? Maybe you just need some personal help and you'll fall right into it. It's gonna be fine." 

Instead of saying anything, Morrison let out the breath he had been holding and Gabriel could see his lip quiver before he bit it. Though he couldn't hear the actual words, he could see the recruit mouth  _thank you_ once again. Gabriel swallowed thickly. Morrison took his leave then, slipping back into the locker room just a moment before Washington turned the corner down the hallway. If Reyes was a little slow to respond to the other man's greeting, Jeziah didn't say anything about it, simply thudded him on the back and opened the door to the men's room, ordering them to hurry. When he went to the women's room to do the same, Gabriel finally began making his way to the mess hall. In another hour he'd be helping Jack try to play catch-up with the rest of his group. Yet his mind couldn't be further from _sparring_ with the man. 


	4. Step Back

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm going to beat anyone who says that "tennis shoes are just for tennis call them sneakers" because if u from indiana u call them tennis shoes. same applies for most of the midwest and south. 
> 
> ANYWAY! school recently started and i need to get into the swing of things again. updates will probably be as slow as usual so i apologize for that. one of these days i'll become a faster writer but as for now. am slow. 
> 
> as always, if you see any spelling/grammar mistakes, or any inaccuracies please let me know! 
> 
> you can follow me at [tumblr](http://whillowed.tumblr.com/) for updates, send me questions, submit stuff, or whatever you want to be there for! i also have a twitter that im just now opening up [here!!](https://twitter.com/maxalackin) im a loooot more active as far as talking on there goes but either works!
> 
> me and iridian have a playlist on spotify for reaper76 which you can find [here!](https://open.spotify.com/user/22ohf35fkcwkxrtd7vygohata/playlist/3cLNB4KHtJBdPUhe5gbEPC)
> 
> feel free to comment with questions, concern, or general comments! i love to hear from you guys and i'll get the next chapter up as soon as i can! thanks for reading!

It wasn't like Washington to be late, which meant that that night, it wasn't like Jack to be late. They showed up to the gym over ten minutes early, and the drill sergeant clapped him on the back, and wished him a sarcastic 'good luck.' He took off, and Jack was left to try and change as slowly as he could before Reyes arrived.

Jack would kill to be able to listen to some music right then.

Try as he might though, switching into shorts and a tank top from his clothes, and tennis shoes from his boots, did not take as long as he would've liked. So instead, he sat on the bench in the locker room and bit at his thumb. He tried not to think of all the horrible ways that this could go wrong, he really did. There was the possibility that Reyes could karate-chop his head clean off. Unrealistic, but a possibility. Jack could fall and hurt himself, or he could fall and hurt Reyes too. Then they'd both be shit out of luck. Breaking a bone, poking out an eye, hitting _himself..._ All very possible realities. Jack made a face to himself when he remembered that he had indeed accomplished one of those things on his small list of horrors.

Fuck, he could even karate-chop Reyes's head from his shoulders. Again, unlikely.

He only stopped gnawing at his fingers when he heard the _whoosh_ of the locker room door opening, and he stood up immediately. Tentatively, he called out, "Sir?"

When he didn't receive an immediate response he wanted to smash his head against a locker for embarrassing himself to whoever it was that just walked in the door. However, he soon heard "Give me just a second, Morrison," followed by the thud of a bag to the floor. Jack sighed quietly, and sat back down on his bench. He was torn between wanting to walk over to where his drill instructor was, and remaining seated. He didn't want to seem to eager or even just annoy Reyes by popping up right in front of his face, but would it be rude to just ignore the other man's presence? Jack half managed to clamber to his feet a few times before Reyes made an appearance at the entrance of Jack's row of lockers. Of course, he managed to do it when Jack was doing a presumably awkward squat over the wood, and the blonde could already feel his cheeks heating up. Reyes said nothing about that, simply quirked an eyebrow and asked, "You ready?" Jack nodded, and the two exited the room to enter the gym once again.

Reyes shoved a padded helmet into Jack's hands, and the younger man's blush only worsened. "I-I can manage without a helmet—"

"Relax. I'm going to be wearing one too. Grab yourself a water bottle from the bag and tape up your hands." When Jack hesitated, he reprimanded, "Come on, we don't have all night. We're doing a speedrun of everything I've taught you guys so far, then finish up with some 'friendly sparring.'" The air quotes around the last two words probably should've worried Jack more than they did, but as it was, he was scrambling for the duffle to get the items Reyes told him to. He set aside one water bottle for himself, and held another one out to his drill instructor who took it with a nod of thanks. Jack quickly strapped on the helmet when Reyes did the same, and taped up his hands just as the older man did.

Blessedly, he saw Reyes pull a speaker pod from his bag, and pulled out his phone. Within moments, a bouncy workout track joined them. The music was loud enough where if they needed, they could block everything else out and lose themselves in it, but not so loud that they couldn't hear each other with a slightly raised voice level.

"Stretch."

"Uh..." Jack replied smartly, and jerkily began pulling one arm across his chest for a few beats, then doing the same to the other arm. Reyes seemed to take pity on him, and instructed Morrison to follow his movements. They spent a few minutes working out their arms and neck, going then to their abs, and finishing with legs.

Eventually the instructor deemed them limber enough, and he picked up two hand pads from the bag. He held out his arms, bent at the elbow and nodded at Jack. "Give me some punches. Go as hard as you can. I want to see what I'm working with here." Jack nodded and pulled up his hands, staring for a moment at his target before letting go two slow hits. Reyes stared on, unimpressed, as Jack kept going for a minute, but when there was no improvement in speed or strength, he spoke up.

"Listen." Jack's eyes shot to him. "I'm not a baby. I do not have glass bones. You can _hit me._ These," he tried to point to one of the pads on his hands, but could only gesture to it with his other. "Are fucking glorified mittens that keep me from getting hurt. If you do not punch me with all your might, Morrison, I am going to kick your ass—"

He was cut off by Jack punching his hand so hard that his arm went flying to the side. Reyes smiled wickedly and brought his hand back. "That's what I'm talking about, Morrison!"

Jack continued to assault the pads until Reyes yelled, "KICKS." Something clicked with the blonde, and immediately he began doing as instructed. After a little while he began to slip up and become unsteady, and the instructor took that opportunity to lower his hands and whistle lowly. "Well I'll be. Where'd you keep that locked up during the day?" Jack panted loudly and shrugged in response, going for his water bottle when Reyes nodded at it on the ground. He took a long sip as he watched the other man from the corner of his eyes as he began to take off his hand padding. "We're doing holds now, and how to break out from them, just like training today. Put me in a headlock."

The younger man nodded and moved to do as Reyes said. An arm soon wrapped around Reyes's neck, and Jack's other hand grasped the back of the man's head. It was a loose hold, exactly as Reyes had told them to make it. "You don't talk much to your superiors, do you?"

"Uh, sorry, s-sir." Reyes didn't respond to this, simply maneuvered him out of the weak grip with ease. Morrison didn't fight him on it, just let it happen.

Reyes pushed Jack's chest lightly. coming closer to his face. "This isn't a demonstration, _Jackie,_ step it _up."_

He blinked. "Jackie?"

Reyes wrinkled his nose and didn't respond to the questioning tone. "Put me in a hold like you fuckin' mean it. A bad guy's not gonna let you hold him like a pillow when he wants to kill you. Got it?"

"Yeah."

This time when they grappled, it showed marked improvement on Morrison's part, but not enough for the older man to be satisfied. He ran the drill over and over again until it took him at least ten seconds to break out of it. He decided that that was enough for the night, and told Jack they were switching positions. When Reyes's arms wrapped around the Jack's throat, he took a good, long breath before they tightened. He heard " _go,_ " whispered in his ear, felt the breath tickle his skin, before he spurred into action. Or at least attempted to. He could barely even budge the thicker man. They kept going like this until Jack let out a little whimper of desperation, and Reyes freed him. He grabbed onto Jack's shoulder before he could drop to the ground, and for that at least Jack was appreciative. Still though, he could feel a little bit of the embarrassment seep back into him until the sergeant reported, "Not bad."

"What?"

"Not bad. You didn't give up even when you knew there was no way you could break free. That might eventually wear someone down so you can escape even if you can't do it by force." He winked to let Morrison know the last part was just teasing.

"I. Um. Thank you, sir."

Again, the older man said nothing, simply spun Morrison around and grabbed ahold him once more. "Again."

They practiced this for a long while. Jack not a single time managed to break free completely, though he did manage to come close quite a few times. To someone who was more inexperienced than Reyes, he most definitely would have been able to escape. When he relayed all of this to Jack, the blonde positively beamed. Reyes chose not to comment on that. Some people were spurred on by encouragement. Simple teaching technique.

After that it was decided that they would move onto light sparring. Reyes tossed a few more pads Jack's way, and he caught them easily enough, though when putting them on he refused to move his eyes off of the floor mats. He tried not to let himself get into his own head too much. Tried not to let himself imagine all the new possible ways he could disappoint his drill instructor. Tried not to let himself imagine Reyes standing over him and laughing, telling him that he was a lost cause. Telling him not to even bother trying to start basic training again, that he'd never pass anyway. Telling him—

"Hey."

Jack felt his mouth fall open a little, felt how tense his brow was.

"Look at me, Morrison." He forced his eyes up to the brown ones staring at him and swallowed thickly. "What's goin' on?"

He couldn't speak at first, let his eyes flick down to the floor again. It took everything he had not to flinch when he saw a hand come towards his face, but when it settled on his shoulder he relaxed. "I...I don't know if I can."

"You can." The words were spoken with such authority that it finally broke the semi-trance Jack had been in. Startled, he looked back up.

"Sir, with all due respect, you've seen me fight."

"I've seen you get your ass handed to you, yeah. I told you tough, we're taking this nice and easy. My goal tonight isn't to beat the shit out of you. Actually, that's never going to be my goal, alright? Listen to me. You _can_ do this. You're _going_ to do this. I'm going to _help you_ do this. Understand?"

"Yes, sir," Jack whispered.

"I said, UNDERSTAND?"

Jack felt his nose flare, felt his chest loosen. "YES, SIR!"

Reyes moved into a fighting stance, and Jack copied it. They eyed each other before a smile stretched out on Reyes's face. "Good."

He lunged forward, moving his fist slowly enough that even Morrison could get out of the way with enough time to throw out his own punch. Reyes blocked it, clicked his tongue and moved back. He came at Jack again and again, moving faster each time. Jack didn't try and do much more than protect himself, hardly managing that half the time. Every time he took a chance and swung out, Reyes would either dodge swiftly or block and counter. Yet every single time Jack took that chance, he was met with, "Yeah, that's it! Come on!" They didn't stop for what felt like hours. Jack was sweating and panting heavily. Even Reyes looked a little winded, though obviously less so than his student. He could tell that Jack was losing it a little, needed a break. Still he came at him again and again, switching up his punches with kicks, landing more and more hits until he knocked Jack back. He expected the man to fall less than gracefully, and finally let him have the rest he required.

What Reyes didn't expect was for Jack to grab his leg arm, pulling him down with him. Jack's head hit the mat and bounced back up, letting out all the air he had in his lungs. Other than that he looked fine, just...Close. Reyes stared at his blue eyes for a moment, chest heaving rapidly. Jack's arms had flown back to rest near his head. His brows were drawn, mouth parted and fuck he... _Fuck._

The drill sergeant made it a conscious effort not to scramble up off of the man beneath him. Made it a conscious effort not to notice how he had one leg between Jack's thighs, the thick muscles barely grazing against his own. He stood, and reached out his hand. Jack took a slow moment to remember how to breath, and grasped the offered hand. Reyes pulled him up, and quietly remarked on how well Jack did. He was a bit thrown off, Reyes's demeanor offsetting a bit of the compliments. "Um, thank you?" Reyes began to walk away, and Jack took a few half-steps to follow.

"Get some water." Reyes didn't look at him when he spoke that command, but Morrison did as he was told quickly. While he was drinking, Reyes spoke again. "We're stretching, and then we're done for tonight." He let his eyes meet Jack's again. "I mean it. Good work tonight. It looks like practice is really gonna help you."

So much relief washed into Jack that he felt his breath hitch in his throat. "I-I. Thank you. Thank you for helping me and everything."

Reyes waved his hand, looking to the side before shutting his eyes for just a second. "Alright, copy me." They went through the stretches they did earlier, though this time in reverse. Jack was dying to ask if he had done something wrong, but was too afraid to be met with a 'yes.' He rolled his neck the last few times with Reyes, and helped him put everything back into the bag. Neither of them said anything after that, and they headed into the locker room.

They undressed, and Jack went to the other end of the showers when he saw Reyes pick one of the shower heads near the front. He didn't want to be seen as a bother, showering too close. He almost didn't hear it when Reyes called out, "Take as long as you want. Washington's gonna show up in twenty-five."

Despite what he thought previously about never being able to take a long time to wash up again, Jack did succeed in taking his sweet time. He kept his hands in his hair, scrubbing for nearly ten minutes. It felt so nice, and Jack wondered if that's what he missed most about being home. His sisters had always yelled at him for his shower times, protesting to their parents that they took less time than him. He hadn't consciously done it, but when he opened his eyes he was leaning against the wall with his upper back, legs spread out and bent a little to help keep his balance. He nearly choked on the thought that Reyes would call him a slut, ridicule him just like a group of boys from his high school once they graduated. He guessed that as soon as they didn't have to see each other every day, and there was nothing he could do about it, it was fair game.

He didn't though. When Jack looked up, he saw the other man turn sharply. He saw him turn off the water sharply, snatch his towel and retreat to the other part of the locker room.

Had Reyes been glaring at him? Maybe it was because Jack was taking too long. Though that didn't make sense because he was told he could. Still, he rinsed out his hair quickly, soaped up and washed off before hurrying to his towel and drying off. He heard Reyes getting dressed from several rows of lockers away. Jack made sure he was completely dry before tugging on his clothes. He almost cried at remembering that his clothes still carried his dried sweat from earlier in the day, but he kept his mouth shut. It would only be a few more minutes before he could change anyway. He sat down on the bench, resting his arms on his thighs and putting his head in one hand.

Jack was fucking exhausted. He had done not one training session, but two. The second was arguably more taxing than the first. Actually, he was certain it was harder than the first. No waiting around while Reyes explained everything to them, and there were so many more breaks for water and bathroom breaks. If they wanted to slack off for a short time in their pairs, Reyes usually let them too. Now though, looking at the clock on the wall, Jack was amazed to find out that they spent about a full hour sparring. He still hadn't completely stopped panting.

He heard the door open, and a familiar voice called out, "Jack?"

There was no energy left in his body to pull himself to his feet, but he did it anyway. However, he could not muster the strength to yell out a reply. He heard Reyes say something, but it was low enough that he wasn't able make out what.

Soon enough, Isaac's head popped up from behind a row of lockers, and Jack grinned tiredly. He hadn't realized it until he was out from under the water, but now he could barely force his body to move. The other man raised his eyebrows and whistled lowly. "You beat, huh?"

"God. Yeah."

"Alright, here we go." Isaac come towards him, lifted one of Jack's arms and stooped a bit so that he could support him.

The blonde let out a little laugh, trying to pull away weakly. "Hey, I'm good on my own." Isaac chuckled too, but didn't let Jack slip away.

"It's alright, I've got ya." Jack let him escort him outside the room, helping him hobble down the hallway. Jack wouldn't admit it, but having the pressure at his side and around his shoulders made him the calmest he had been in almost forever. He pressed himself even closer, and if the taller man noticed, he didn't mind enough to say anything.

 

\------------------------------------------

 

Gabriel took several long, steadying breaths before loosely tying up his boots. He resolutely made the decision to erase the image of Jack laid out beneath him earlier. And the memory of when he had looked over at Morrison in the shower. Nothing good would come of that anyway. Or at least until he was out of training. As for now though, he wouldn't even entertain the thought of flirting with Jack. Gabriel took a few moment to will away the color that wanted to rise to his cheeks, and threw on a t-shirt. He slung the bag's strap over his shoulder, and headed out of the room.

When he heard someone giggle he turned his head a bit to look, and saw Hong's back. The laugh didn't sound like him so who...?

Then he watched as the man lowered his head, and saw him cup Jack's face, saw him press his lips to Jack's.

_Oh._

He realized that he shouldn't be watching this, and awkwardly stumbled forward before regaining his motor skills. Neither of the recruits had heard him, so he took advantage of that and hurriedly retreated to his room. He shut the door behind him and slumped against it, defeated. Gabriel had a smirk on his that only served to show his shock. There was no reason this should affect him at all. So instead, he snickered and began undressing. _Good for him,_ Gabriel thought. He almost meant it too. He climbed into bed and shut his eyes. That night was dreamless and restless.

 

\----------------

 

The same alarm tone that had woken him up every day for the past two years chirped, and Gabriel resisted the urge to throw it across the room, just as he always wanted to.

Upon looking at the time, he cursed suddenly, and continued doing so as he got dressed. He already wasn't in the mood to get up and run with a group of trainees. His normally foolproof plan of waking up early, getting ready, and taking a quick nap backfired as soon as he realized there was no way he was falling asleep again. He was irritable, both with what had happened last night, and his own reaction to it.

Again and again he told himself that there was no reason he should be angry or even upset. He had barely even realized he _might someday possibly_ like Morrison. Maybe it was just the fact that the opportunity was taken from him before he even got a chance to act on it. Then again, who was he kidding? There was no chance that it would have worked out in the first place.

With that in mind, he laid back down on his bed and stared at the ceiling until his second alarm announced itself. This time when he stood up, he did throw his phone. Though it landed on his bed and bounced only once. He shoved his feet into his tennis shoes, scrubbed his face with his hands and made his way to the bathroom.

After just a few minutes he was making his way to the meeting place where they would all begin their group jog. He thought again how much he hated mornings, and how much he _detested_ running in the mornings.

Everyone probably realized that something was off when Gabriel didn't say anything, simply jerked his head and took off. No one said anything about it.

Blessedly, no one felt like talking at all that day apparently. The previous morning there had been some quiet and exhausted conversations, but whether it was because Gabriel's mood was impacting their own, or if everyone was just having a shitty morning he didn't know.

They made it to the finish line three seconds earlier than the previous morning. He told them that they did well, and found himself rushing for the water fountain. He spent several long moments sipping the spurting water before backing off. He wanted breakfast, but he absolutely did not want Nassar to be prodding him with questions of what put him in such a funk. True she might have some words of advice for him, but this was something he refused to tell anyone. Having the tiniest crush in history on a trainee and being disappointed when it didn't work out was going to help no one. And so, he let it go. Then and there, as he tried to guzzle as much metallic tasting water as he could, he just let go of it all. He rationalized that it was easy, and chided himself for even letting himself think about it in the first place. It was probably Nassar's fault anyway, putting the idea in his head.

When he backed away from the fountain, he already felt better. He made his way to the mess hall, finding not only Washington and Nassar, but Dabney and Rosita as well. It was rare for them to show up to breakfast, but at least Rosita and Damla could talk and keep the attention off of him. He grabbed some eggs and popped a couple slices of bread into the toaster, scowling when they came out hardly any more golden than when they had gone in. He adjusted the heat and popped them in again. _Who the fuck even likes un-toasted toast? Who fucks with the toaster?_ His internal griping ended as soon as the timer went off, and he snagged the bread out. Butter was applied and he made his way to their usual table and lightly tossed the plate onto it.

Dabney jumped when he did so, but he was too busy making his way to the coffee. He grabbed a mug and poured some into it, throwing in some cream and sugar to make it bearable.

Gabriel returned to the table and sat down, muttering hello to the rest of them. At this point his mood was only soured because of the three minutes of sleep he had gotten. He'd be better once he had some coffee, and made a note to at least _act_ nice when he finished his first cup. To their credit, if he reeked of sweat, no one said anything about it.

"'Sup, Gabrielito?"

He took a long swig before answering, already feeling the caffeine awaken him. "Tired as shit. You guys?"

"Can't complain," answered Rosita, though the look on her face showed that she truly wanted to. Dabney and Washington shrugged, and Nassar opened her mouth. Gabriel decided he needed to finish the cup quickly before she spat out whatever she was going to.

His decision turned out to be a good one as soon as he watched her lips form the words, "How was training last night?" He heard it too, but he wished he didn't.

Both Dabney and Rosita turned their attention from their food to him. "Training? Thought you did morning 'n afternoon stuff." Dabney was right, Gabriel did do morning and afternoon 'stuff.' He guessed that not everyone knew that he now did night 'stuff' too. Nassar explained how he was giving _special attention_ to a certain student and how _thrilled she was_ that he was finding someone. Dabney, to her credit was immediately supportive.

"No. No, no no. Back up," Gabriel commanded quickly. "I'm giving him extra lessons because he needs them, not because I want to spend more time with him or whatever. And he's just a newbie. And training was fine, he's doing fine, everything is _fine._ " He stressed the last word more than need be, and prayed the conversation would conclude.

It didn't.

"You're both adults. Honestly, as soon as he graduates basic I don't see what the problem is. He's nineteen you're twenty-one, that's a nothing age difference."

"Well right now he hasn't graduated. Right now I'm still his drill sergeant and he has to do everything I say. Right now it would be grossly inappropriate to pursue him because of that. And even after he graduates I'm not going to."

"Okay, but—"

"Nassar." Washington spoke up, and Gabriel made sure to make eye contact and try and convey his thanks.

She huffed, and poked at the remnants of her pancakes. "Sorry."

Gabriel nodded, and stood up to go get another cup of coffee. "Me too."

In all manners it seemed, Gabriel and Damla teetered right on the edge of constantly fighting. They truly did care for each other though, yet were it not for their abilities to apologize when things went too far they would most likely despise the other. The first time they hung around each other they actually did break out into a yelling match over Nassar's prodding, and Gabriel's desire to have some shred of privacy. It had taken two other people to calm them both down, and by the time they had they were both laughing and apologizing. She never stopped her questioning, and Gabriel never let her step too far.

Within a minute or two he was back at the table. Everyone had seemed to mellow out, with the majority concentrating on eating their food or sipping on some coffee. Gabriel hoped that he hadn't ruined the mood by getting irritated earlier. When Rosita flashed him a smile though he let out a sigh of relief before returning the expression. Idle conversation was made, but soon everyone began to leave the table and go about their daily duties.

He had about another hour to kill before combat training began for the day, so he treated himself to another cup of coffee even as Washington departed from the table. Gabriel was alone then, not that he minded. It gave him a chance to one more go over the lesson plan.

By the time he stood up to leave, he was already feeling much better than he had when he woke up. Caffeine tended to do that for him. That, and make him a little jittery if he couldn't work it off.

Thankfully, today he was going over pins. Like good ol' fashioned wrestling.

One by one, his students shuffled into their gym area. He counted off heads, watching as the last person stumbled in about ten seconds after everyone else. He barked at them to step up their pace or they'd be forced to run laps. The man nodded and hurried to stand with his friends while everyone was circled around Gabriel. He wasn't the oldest man in there. Actually there were a surprising amount of recruits that were in their mid or late twenties. There was one woman that Gabriel hadn't had to instruct that was thirty. He supposed that with the rising aggression between humans and omnics, everyone was a bit fearful and more likely to enlist.

Even still, when Reyes spoke, everyone listened. Experienced soldiers, sergeant majors and corporals listened to Gabriel Reyes when he spoke.

Trainees were no different.

"LISTEN UP!" Every single person in that gym immediately shut their mouths and turned to the man in the center. Their 'lecture' that day was longer than any of the previous ones. Gabriel could tell when their attentions began to drift away, so he began a few of the different demonstrations. The first half of their day was going to be clumsy and awkward, he already knew that. The second half was going to be better. Then in the days following he'd improve their skills. After that they'd finish up their last few days with sparring, more wrestling, and so on. From there he'd judge if they passed or not.

As the class broke up into the partners he'd designated yesterday, Gabriel was reminded of the one student he was actually worried about not passing. He refused to focus on him right then though. Most everyone was bound to be terrible at first. When things started going wrong is when he would turn his attention to Morrison. _If,_ Gabriel reminded himself. Better to be optimistic.

Half an hour passed of the group wrangling each other on the floor. Gabriel didn't say much to any of them, just walked around and gave a helpful two-word command here and there.

When he got to Jack and his partner, he was surprised. Jack had the other man on his back, and was actually pinning him. The other man was larger, and Jack still managed to hold down his legs with his thighs. The other man's wrists were trapped in Morrison's hands. His partner struggled of course, neither of them worn out yet. But from the looks of it, Jack was...Winning.

Before he could stop himself, he whistled, breaking both of the men's concentration. "Damn, Morrison. Where'd you learn all this?" The blonde flushed immediately, letting his partner go.

"I. Um. Was that too much? I mean I know it's the first day but..."

"It's fine. You're just. A lot better than uh." He stopped himself, not wanting to insult the trainee. Jack's partner had lost interest in the conversation, choosing instead to gulp from his water bottle and wipe at his sweat with his shirt. Gabriel paid him no mind after that.

"Lot better than expected?" Reyes shrugged noncommittally. Jack scratched at the back of his head. "I wrestled in high school."

"Yeah? You're pretty good."

Jack snorted. "Good? No. I mean, thank you, sir. But compared to everyone else I was just. There. Yannow?"

Gabriel didn't really know. Sure, he had seen sports movies where the underdog always came out on top. But from the forlorn look on Jack's face, he never really got his chance to shine. Everything that Gabriel had done he had been good at. He resisted the urge to groan, and instead clapped the younger man on the shoulder. "Well, from the looks of it right now, you're doin' pretty well. Keep it up."

He turned around after that and moved onto the next group, missing whatever expression Jack made after that.

The rest of the group time in the gym was uneventful. He noticed that Jack got whacked hard enough in the back to knock his breath out of him, but right after that a woman got elbowed in the face. Blood gushed from her nose, and her partner tried coddling her, but the woman shoved her off. Gabriel was wary of a fight breaking out, so he separated them quickly, and checked out her nose. True to his fears, it was broken. He sighed wearily, and kept her face in his grip even when she struggled. If she didn't stay still she'd make it worse, especially if she went after the woman she was training with like her glares suggested.

Yet again the attacker apologized, hovering over Gabriel's shoulder. He had to restrain the woman and yelled at the other to back off. "Well," he spoke loudly to attract attention. "I can fix it now, or you can go to the medic and whoever's there will do it." Once he knew she had listened, he leaned in closer to make sure she was the only one that could hear. "You need to settle right the fuck down. Do you understand me?"

Her head bobbed minimally, and he moved her hands and head so that she could reduce the blood flow.

"I wanna go to th' medic." When she spoke it was a little garbled, no doubt because of the blood that was filling her mouth. Gabriel nodded, and called over another woman he had seen her talking to from time to time. He didn't know if they were friends, and he didn't care, but he instructed her to take the one who'd been hit to the doc. They left quickly, and Gabriel rubbed a hand through his hair. He pushed off his beanie to do so, and shoved it back on over his curls as soon as he regained his composure.

Truth be told, it wasn't the worst injury he had seen. When he was in basic, he'd seen a guy start climbing a rope. He'd made it almost all the way to the top before his hand slipped, and he fell straight to the mat below. Problem was that he landed on his leg at such an odd angle that it broke, and the bone stuck out. A girl threw up right after.

Still, it wasn't fun to see someone get hurt like that. Even less so when it was someone he was supposed to be taking care of. He felt guilty that he hadn't been more attentive towards the situation, but the girl who had hit the other one assured him that it was completely by accident. Gabriel waved her off and yelled at everyone to keep sparring.

Gabriel was just glad it wasn't Jack whose nose had been broken.

The thought hit him out of nowhere, and it took everything in him to keep himself from snarling at it. He was normally in such good control of himself, but the lack of sleep was messing with him. That had to be it. He shook his head, and watched everyone else go. They broke for lunch, came back, and finished that day's lesson silently. Everyone could kind of tell that Drill Instructor Reyes was a little on edge, and no one wanted to send him over it. Gabriel found himself watching Morrison again, thinking that he'd take mental notes of today's performance and then go over it again that night. What he saw though was Jack flawlessly execute move after move. He didn't know much about legitimate wrestling, but he knew that Jack was good at it, no matter what he said.

They all headed to the showers, and soon after they weren't Gabriel's problem anymore. After everyone left, Gabriel still sat on one of the benches with his head in his hands.

It stressed him out to no end whenever something major like that happened on his watch. When the escort had come back to their lesson, she reported that the break in the other's nose wasn't even bad. The medic could set it without anyone ever knowing it had been broken. That had relieved Reyes somewhat, and after some rest he'd be over it. For now though it bugged him. Despite how he acted outwardly, he did care for everyone that he had to train. If they got hurt it felt like it was his fault. If he ever wanted to rise in the ranks of the army he'd had to get over that, he knew. But for now it still bothered him.

He let out a loud groan since no one could hear him, and stood up. He wanted nothing more to take a nap, but he still had to get dinner and play personal trainer for Morrison. God help the kid tonight.


	5. Cover (Part 1)

Jack's day had started well. He had woken up only slightly groggy and disoriented, but nothing a cold splash of water to the face couldn't fix. Breakfast in the mess hall was hash browns and  _ god  _ did Jack love how the army did hash browns. Granted, it was hard to fuck them up. 

His heart did a little flutter when Isaac briefly kissed him on the cheek before sitting next to him at his table, the two immediately settling in their seats. The previous day Isaac had confessed that he liked Jack  _ as more than a friend  _ he had put it. Jack wasn't sure how to respond, so he just stood with a grin on his face as he accepted the affection given to him. 

_ Do you, uh, want to go out then? _

_ Sure. I-I mean yes. Yes.  _

And the huge grin and hug Isaac had given him was almost enough to erase the doubt from Jack's mind. 

Now though it seemed so easy to relax around him. Their knees touched under the table, and the heat Isaac produced was nice. So Jack was inclined to let things progress as they were, no reason to object to anything yet. Isaac was nice and treated him well. Everything his ma and pa wanted for him. He took another bite of his hash browns and watched as another two recruits sat across from them, already wishing them good morning and chattering. 

"You with me, Morrison?" 

He whipped his head up. "Oh. Sorry, uh, what?" 

Sonia snickered. "I said, are you nervous for our evals soon?" When Jack merely responded with a confused look, she moved her hand in a circular motion. "You know, evaluations for combat training. When they decide if we can move on to the next step of basic or not?" 

"Oh," he repeated and she rolled her eyes. "I guess I'm kinda nervous." He looked down at his plate, the crispy potatoes suddenly seeming unappealing. He pushed the tray forward on the table a few inches away from him. "How many days do we have left?" 

"Six." 

_ Oh.  _

"Yeah well, you're gonna do fine, Jack." He looked up at Isaac at the mention of his name. "Even without Reyes helping you you're gonna be better than any of us anyway." He smiled reassuringly even through his exaggeration and Jack felt his lips tug upwards. Sonia muttered about how gross they were, and Twofer slammed his coffee in one go. He gagged only once and thumped his chest, drawing everyone's attention to him. 

"Sorry. That shit was nasty." 

"Then why did you mix an energy drink in there?" Sonia had a disgusted look on her face even as she scooted a little down the bench they rested on, probably because she preferred not to be thrown up on.

Twofer shrugged. "Seemed like a good idea at the time. And I'm awake now, so."

She pressed her fingertips into the corners of her eyes as she squeezed them shut and mumbled, "It's not even nine a-m yet and I'm already sick of you guys." The three of them mumbled their apologies, even though Jack felt he hadn't done anything pressing to warrant her irritation. Not yet anyway. Soon enough Washington barked for his trainees to follow him, and off they all went to throw their trays in the soapy tubs provided, then to Reyes's lesson. Cortez managed to catch up with them. She'd gotten in trouble for leaving a hairball in the sink and had to skip breakfast to clean all of the women's sinks. 

"Gross," Jack told her, wincing sympathetically. 

Cortez laughed and punched him on the shoulder lightly. "You're telling me." Jack and Isaac split from Cortez and Sonia as they went into their separate locker rooms. 

Jack stripped off his shirt almost upon entering the room, carrying it with him until he reached his own locker. Isaac pinched his side as soon as he wasn't paying attention, and Jack gasped in surprise. Isaac laughed it off, and Jack threw on his gym shirt with a huff. Boots and fatigues were replaced with tennis shoes and basketball shorts, just like every other person in basic. Jack tightened the chord of his shorts so they didn't slip off his slim hips and tucked the front hem of his shirt in. He deemed himself satisfactory and made to leave the locker room until Isaac called for him to wait. He did, turning around just in time to see the other man finish tying his shoes and rush at him. Jack braced himself as Isaac put a hand on his shoulder and whirled him around as they both left the tiled floor to enter the gym. 

Reyes was standing in the center of it, just as he had every day since combat training began. Jack had since learned that it was not appropriate to greet his drill instructors unless spoken to first. Not even if one of them was giving him extra lessons on the side. Reyes regarded each of them cooly, gaze lingering on Jack perhaps a moment or two longer than on anyone else. 

It took a few minutes, but eventually everyone trickled out to the matts. Only then did Reyes speak to all of them. "Stretches guys, then three laps 'round the gym as a warm up. Meet back up in the middle." They set about to follow the command, some taking longer to stretch than others, some taking longer to jog than the others. Eventually though the lot was done, and once each set of trainee eyes was upon Reyes, he addressed them again with a new command to follow. "Everyone pad up. We're going to put together everything you learned and go all-out sparring. I'm picking groups." One or two people groaned, but Reyes glared at the direction they came from. Any other time he might chew them out, make them run laps probably. But Reyes obviously had a plan for the day so he ignored the transgression. 

After everyone had gotten a padded helmet, hand, knee, and torso guards, he went through the list of recruits, pairing those who could fight together and not have one destroy the other, or have them do nothing at all. A woman that was known for her killer right hooks got paired with the guy who looked like he ate nails for breakfast. Isaac—tall and structured—was grouped with a lanky guy who was faster than just about anyone else in their group. Jack shifted from one foot to the other as Reyes kept going down the list without arriving at his name yet. Finally, he called  _ Morrison,  _ and a man whose body shape could be compared to a brick house. Jack cleared his throat and turned his pleading eyes to Reyes. 

"Don't give me that look." 

"Sir—" 

"Just remember what I taught you, Jackie." He pointed a pen at aforementioned block of a person. "Go get 'im." Jack sucked in a breath and joined his partner. Reyes finished up the list, and yelled at them all to get ready. "Play fair, kiddos. Only use what you learned over the past week. If you get yourself hurt for god's sake don't bleed out on the matts. Got it?" 

A resounding, "YES, REYES, SIR!" echoed off the cement walls. 

"THEN BEGIN," he yelled with the hint of a grin on his lips.

Jack adjusted the chin strap of his helmet and reached out to tap fists with the man he was paired with. He reciprocated, and the two of them eased into starting positions. Neither of them moved for a few beats, until simultaneously each tired of waiting for the other to begin. They both stepped forward, Jack using his left fist to connect with his partner's bicep, feeling the jab against his ribs when he couldn't block the other's hit. He grimaced, just barely managing to move out of the way of a strike aimed at his face. 

Reyes made his way around the room, eyeing each individual person. "If one of you is knocked down, get up and start again. No one stops unless I say so!" 

Narrowly avoiding a knee to his chest, Jack fell against the matts, immediately rolling out of the way and launching himself up again. He blocked a punch that was coming straight for his face, returning the hit in kind to the other's stomach. He was slow, but Jack could already feel the bruises blossoming from where he had blocked instead of evaded. It was a testament to Reyes that he managed to last even this long, a testament to himself and how far he had come that he was even doing well in the fight. He brought his arms up in time to stop a shin from connecting with his throat, ducking when the other man swung his body around to try and get the other leg to connect. The moves were sloppy, exaggerated, predictable. Jack landed another punch to the torso. 

Now he understood why Reyes had paired him with the largest man in their class. He dodged, brought up his leg and shoved the other away with it. Reyes was the best of all worlds. Fast, powerful, trained, smooth. Jack had spent long enough training with him that this was easy in comparison. 

Bob, twist, jab, block, kick, take a hit and dance away. Jack hadn't realized it until then, but he was smiling. He lacked the power that it would require for this to be a quick spar. Instead the extra training time had increased his speed and endurance, and it was enough to outlast the man he was fighting. Jack had no doubts that if he were paired with almost anyone else he'd be knocked flat in seconds. But this was a confidence booster for himself, and each hit he landed only served to spur him on. 

Jack tripped then, stumbled for a moment. The other guy hit him in the face, splitting his lip. He grunted out a  _ sorry,  _ but Jack only wiped his mouth and threw out his fist once more. It didn't land, but the three after that did. 

They kept going at it, both becoming more bloody and bruised as they went. Until finally the blonde got him on his back with a kick that took nearly all of his body weight. 

He went down, and stayed there. Jack took the opportunity to take several loud gasps of air, resting his hands on his knees before leaning over his practice partner. He offered his hand, and with some effort they managed to get the larger man back on his feet. After another moment's rest they put their fists back up, ready to charge at one another yet again. Reyes cut them all off with a sharp whistle. "Five minute water break, then switch partners." Just as Jack started walking to his bottle, the drill instructor called out, "Morrison, over here for just a second." 

Isaac looked over at him, managing to catch Jack's eye before he winked and went to do as he was told. 

"Yes, sir?" 

"Good work just now." Reyes didn't look up from his clipboard as he scribbled out something and jotted another something above it. Jack wanted to take a peek, but he refrained. Reyes looked up at him, tapping his chin with the pen. Jack raised an eyebrow before remembering the dried blood on his face and hurried to scrub it off with his hand. It still stung, but it wasn't as bad as he had feared. "That was the first time you won against someone in this class. If you keep it up, you're definitely going to pass." 

High words of praise from Reyes indeed. It dawned on Jack that yes, he had won the fight. It had taken him the better part of an hour to knock him down, but he had done it. "Thank you, sir." 

"Go get some water," he commanded, and off Jack went. 

Isaac was waiting for him, holding the green bottle that Jack had written his name on in sharpie. They were all issued the same standard tin bottles, and whereas most had decorated theirs with stickers they had managed to get their hands on, or illustrations, Jack only had his name in bland capital letters. He bit the inside of his cheek as he unscrewed the cap. 

A bump to his shoulder was followed with, "So what did Reyes say?" 

"Just that I did alright." 

"Yeah?" 

Jack nodded. "He says I'll probably pass too. Which, I guess is a miracle of some sort. He's really been saving my ass the past few days honestly." He took a swig of water, twitching slightly at the sharp pain from his lip. It dulled and he continued. "I mean, God knows that I would've been destroyed in that fight otherwise." He chuckled, but when he turned to Isaac the other man was not amused. "What?" 

"You're selling yourself short. You'd've done fine without Reyes. It just would've taken you a little longer, no shame in that. He's not really doing much." 

His brow furrowed. "Hey, come on, Isaac. Gabriel's really helped me—" 

"Gabriel?" 

" _ Reyes,"  _ he stressed. Isaac eyed him skeptically. "What's your problem with him?" 

He shrugged, and Reyes yelled for them all to come back to the center. He went through the list of partners again, and this time Jack was with Cortez. He groaned inwardly, and once they were sent off he went to meet his doom. He was exhausted from his previous fight, barely managing to shield himself from most of her blows. She was tired too, which is why Jack was able to get in some hits of his own. Ultimately, his back hit the floor three times. She went down once, and Jack was convinced it was merely by luck. Neither of them were too keen on hurting the other, so the face was an unspoken limit for both of them. Cortez was in the middle of driving her calf into Jack's side twice when they were ordered to stop. Another water break ensued, Jack high-fiving his friend before collapsing against the gym wall. 

They got fifteen minutes as a break, then they'd be paired off again with the padded shields for practice punches and kicks before lunch. Jack took a long gulp and let his head fall back gently against the concrete behind him. Isaac joined him, giving his knee a squeeze in greeting. "How'd you do this time?" 

"Worse." His voice was hoarse, and he was so sore. Isaac slipped a hand into Jack's hair and rubbed his head for a minute, eliciting a long sigh of relief. 

"I'm sure you did fine. I saw you managed to get Cortez down once." Jack hummed, not trusting his throat not to betray him if he tried to speak again. He emptied his bottle in one go, setting it down in front of him. Isaac—with great effort—managed to haul himself back up. He snagged Jack's water bottle, and he tried to stop him, but Isaac insisted it was fine and went. He returned soon after, and Jack drained half of it again while Isaac chuckled. 

Mercifully, the cold water and rest managed to get Jack back on his feet in time for Reyes to whistle for them again. Pads were distributed, and partners went off. Jack had a hard time of putting any effort into his punches, and kicking was out of the question. When they switched, it was the same for his partner. Washington showed up, escorting them all to lunch. Jack had no illusions of him smelling even close to decent, but then again no one in that large group smelled of anything but sweat, blood, and old practice matts. 

Lunch was too short. 

Training was too long. 

Showers were too short. 

Same with dinner. 

Chores were _way_ too long. 

Finally the time came for Jack's personal practice, but for the first time he prayed something would come up so that he didn't have to go. Washington walked him down to the gym again, and Jack changed slowly. He sat on the bench stared at the ground, offended that it didn't swallow him before Reyes showed up. 

When the man finally showed, he made quick work of changing and making his way to Jack. Too quick in Jack's opinion. "Jesus you look like shit." 

Jack tried to laugh, but what felt like a cut in his throat made it come out as a ragged cough. Reyes grimaced, patting him on the back sympathetically. "My first time going all out sparring like that was a lot like your first time." Jack lifted a brow. "Well, I mean I was a lot better fighter than you." His grin was enough to let Jack know that he was kidding. Mostly anyway. He sat next to Jack, tapping his nose. "First time I ever broke this was when the guy I was with head butted me. I'm not ashamed to admit I went down, probably screaming for the first few seconds." Jack had to bite his lip to keep from smiling at the thought. "They reset it pretty well, couldn't even tell that it was broken in the first place. The second and third times though produced what you see today." Jack took a closer look at it then. It had a slight rise over the bridge, and a little scar on the skin over it. 

"Doesn't look too bad." 

"Aw, you flatter me." Reyes stood up then, jerking his head briefly. "C'mon. Just because you're  _ sooo tired—"  _ Jack could've lived without the baby talk—"Doesn't mean you get to slack off tonight. Let's go." 

He groaned as he stood, joints and muscles alike feeling as though they were on fire. His walk was more of a hobble, but he still managed to follow Reyes at a decent pace. The duffle bag on Reyes's shoulder bumped against the back of his thighs.  _ God that must be uncomfortable,  _ Jack thought. They didn't travel too deep into the room. There was no reason to, really. Two people alone only needed ample space to roll around, not the entirety of the gigantic space. Reyes threw the bag to the floor, fishing out his water bottle. Jack placed his next to the drill instructor's, and took the guards and arm braces he was handed. 

"Easy night tonight, just punches and kicks. Little reward for actually winning a fight today." Jack felt his face heat up and hoped beyond hope his cheeks didn't show it. He handed one item at a time as Reyes reached for it and waited patiently as each was put on. 

Finally when Reyes was ready he pointed to Jack. "Stretch out." 

"Huh? I've already done that, like, three times today." 

"Well, you're gonna do it four. You know the drill, Morrison, we do this every night." Jack bit back his response of  _ but this is the easiest thing we've done in days,  _ and instead threw his arms above his head and stretched out his back, going to his tippy-toes to get the full effect. He felt his back crack at least three times and groaned in relief. He didn't notice the way Reyes's eyes hurriedly changed direction as the older man mirrored Jack in stretching his arms in front of his chest. They grabbed one ankle of their own each and pulled until foot met ass.

Jack twisted his torso so that he could look over each shoulder, then bent so he could touch his toes. Then he laid his palms flat against the ground. 

His mother had always commented on how limber he was, even as he bulked up later in life. 

Reyes snickered. "You done?" 

"You're the one who said I needed to stretch in the first place." The other man scoffed. "But, yes. I'm done." Reyes clapped the two hand guards together and motioned for Jack to come on. He did, the first few punches weak as he warmed up. By the time Reyes told him to switch to kicks Jack was sweating and huffing lightly. He did so, concentrating more at first on keeping his balance. Once he became more confident he was able to fuel more of his energy into the blows. 

He almost didn't notice when Reyes told him to stop, blinking in surprise when his ankle was caught mid-air. "Sorry." 

Reyes released him. "Well, color me impressed. Good work tonight, Jackie. Get some water then head to the showers. I'll let Washington know he should be here a little early tonight." There was the nickname again. 

"We're done already?" He looked up at the clock on the wall, disbelieving it when it said that over an hour had passed already. "Oh. Wow." Reyes began to slip off the guards, tossing them in the bag as soon as they were off. 

"Yeah, seemed a lot quicker for you. You weren't just standing there for an hour." 

"Sorry. Again." 

The other man waved off his apology. He chugged most of his water, waiting until Jack was done with his own drink before throwing the tin back in his bag and zipping it. He threw it over his shoulder and headed into the locker room, Jack following close behind him. Silently, they slipped off their clothing and hopped under the shower heads. Jack felt the exertion practically wash off of him along with the sweat. He took his time, or at least as much time as he was allowed. Reyes left the shower before him. No doubt because he had hardly done anything the entire practice. Jack felt a little guilty that he hadn't done much at all, but if Reyes had had a problem with it, he would have said. Besides that, he was the one who decided what they worked on night after night. 

A little bit of shampoo got in his eye and he whined. He rinsed it out quickly, and decided that was to be the end of his shower. He made sure the soap was gone from his hair and body before turning off the water. When he did, he heard hushed voices from the other side of the locker room. He toweled off quietly, straining to hear what was going on. It was a lost cause though. Nearly as soon as he shut off the water the voices stopped. 

He wrapped the fabric around his waist and padded to his clothes. He made sure that his legs were as dry as they were going to get before he slipped on his underwear and pants. 

"Hurry up," Reyes called from the other side of the locker room. Jack made a face he was glad Reyes couldn't see and was tempted to dress even slower. He knew the punishments for refusal to listen to an order though, and instead slipped his shirt on hurriedly and set about trying to get his socks and boots on. 

The ends of his boot violently popped out of his hands as he finally shoved his foot in. He laced them quickly and moved quickly to the exit of the room. Reyes was glaring at whoever was just outside the door way, and as Jack got closer he realize it was Isaac that had come to pick him up again. He looked from Reyes—who hadn't turned his gaze from Isaac—to smile nervously at his friend. "Hey." 

Only then did Reyes look away, addressing Jack then. "Go on. You're going to need your rest for tomorrow." 

Jack nodded, working his way past Reyes and following Isaac back to their bunks. He checked in with Washington and hauled himself into bed. Since he was released so early, they still had another hour or so before lights out. Isaac sat with him on his bunk, and Jack flopped onto his back with a loud sigh. 

"How was it?" 

"Alright." 

"What did you do?" 

He raised an eyebrow at Isaac's questioning. "Just, uh, practiced punching and kicking. That was it." Isaac nodded, not meeting his eyes. "Can you do me a favor?" 

Isaac looked surprised. "Yeah, sure. What?" Jack wiggled his feet that hung off the bed.

"Can you take these off for me? I don't think I have the energy to sit up." If he sounded guilty, it was because he was. Just a little. Isaac moved off the bed, kneeling to Jack's side and grabbing one of his legs. Jack snorted and Isaac unlaced one, grabbing his other leg to do the same. He pulled them both off with minimal effort and plugged his nose with his fingers, grimacing. Mortified, Jack whispered, "Oh my god, my shoes don't smell  _ that  _ bad do they?" 

A grin was the initial response. "Nah, I'm just fucking with you." 

Numbly, Jack swung out to punch Isaac lightly, but the other man was too far out of his reach. "Asshole." He positioned himself so that his feet were flat on the bed, knees bent upwards. Isaac stood up and dusted off his knees, settling back down into the available room. Jack was about ready to fall asleep then and there, noise from the other men in the room be damned. Isaac didn't say anything to him after his eyes closed, only asking on occasion if Jack was still awake. Each time he let a hum leave his throat. Eventually he let one lid slit open, finding that his companion was looking down at him, a soft look on his face. He closed his eye again before Isaac could notice. After a while Washington yelled that they had ten minutes to do whatever they needed to before everyone had to be in bed. 

Groaning loudly, already feeling the effort it took his muscles, Jack sat up. Isaac helped him stand, though he truly didn't need to. Jack picked up his boots and widened them so that he could easily slide them back on, then made his way to the bathroom to piss and brush his teeth. He was nearly dead on his feet by the time he shuffled back to his bunk, finding Isaac standing by it. He looked around them, pecking the other on the lips once he made sure no one was looking in their direction. 

The resulting intake of breath and quiet chuckle was enough to let Jack know his moment of boldness was appreciated. He ignored Isaac as he slipped off his boots and socks, kicking them under his bed. He looked over his shoulder with a small smirk. "You gonna look away while I take my clothes off?" 

"Oh. Right, yeah. Yeah, sorry." Jack laughed as Isaac took long strides to reach his bunk, letting a sweet 'good night!' follow him. He shucked off his pants, folding them carefully and setting them on the end of his bed. His bunkmate was on the other side of the bed, partially separated by the metal ladder. 

Jack threw himself into bed after he was ready, almost not bothering to get underneath the sheets. It was warm in the room, but the fans would be increased in just a few moments so he managed to arch his back enough off the bed to retrieve the ends of the sheets. It took some effort getting them from under him with his unwillingness to actually get  _ up  _ and take the easy way out. But he managed, letting out another long sigh as he covered himself with the stiff sheet and scratchy cover. 

Just as he wiggled himself into a comfortable position it went dark. The noise of the ceiling fans increased and Jack closed his eyes. He couldn't fight off sleep long, welcoming it within minutes of his head hitting the pillow. 

 

\----------------

 

Their normally dull, languid mornings were interrupted by a woman in heels and a pencil skirt strolling in. After a few words with the sergeant, he bellowed for them all to dress immediately and stand by their bunks. Everyone moved quickly, not having any idea as to what was going on. Jack felt a little spark of anxiety flare up in his stomach, but he forced it down in favor of cinching his belt around his hips. 

The woman stood silently as the commotion went on around her. Her immaculately pressed blazer and skirt the same shade of dark grey. Her shirt was white underneath, heels a shiny black. Her glasses were the same color and thin-rimmed. From far away it looked like her eyes were the darkest shade he had ever seen on anyone. The only hint of color on her was the honey color of her hair. 

In record time, each man stood by the ends of their bunks, nearly shoulder to shoulder with each other. The woman looked on, Washington mildly confused but still with his authoritative air about him beside her. 

"ATTEN-TION!" They all snapped straight, arms clasping behind their backs. The woman nodded. 

Jack wasn't sure what he expected her voice to sound like, but it wasn't as high-pitched as what came out. "Who I am is of no concern to anyone but a select few of you—if that. If I pick you, you will come with me for the day and will be relieved of your duties for the day." 

If no one was intrigued before, they certainly were now. Jack nearly shifted where he stood, forcing the habit down. He didn't like the idea of this, it seemed much too sketchy for his tastes. He'd just let her pick anyone else, and he wouldn't do anything to stand out. That included keeping absolutely still while she surveyed the room. "If I call your name, step forward." 

The list was short, alphabetical. There were only two names called—one of them Isaac's—before she announced, "Morrison, Jackson." He startled. Why had she called  _ his _ name? 

When no one stepped forward she lifted her head and looked around the room. Jack took one shaky step forward, then another. "Ah. You. Do try to have a faster reaction time in the future." His face burned in shame at being called out, but she had already turned her attention back to the list. Three more names followed after Jack's. And that was it. The men that were standing a few paces further were stared down one by one by this woman. "Alright. Those I have selected will need to follow me." The vagueness of her orders was almost terrifying. She turned briskly away from Washington and took several long strides to the door, her heels clicking against the tiled floor. One man picked up behind her. Isaac waited for Jack to jog towards him before they followed behind two other men, the rest behind them. 

He wanted to whisper and ask what was going on, but the possible ramifications were too high. 

She led them on a brisk walk, one that had the rest of them taking little two-steps to be able to keep up with. They were brought to a conference room that Jack had never seen on base before. He had never seen the corridor that they were led down either, tucked away in some corner of the base as it was. She gestured to it. "Please, have a seat anywhere you like in here. I'll call you into the office right over there—"this time she pointed to the door that was directly across the hall from them—"one by one in the order I first called your name. Or for you slower individuals, in alphabetical order by your last name." Jack tried not to notice the way she looked directly at him as she said this. 

"Starting with Alexander comma Robert." 

Her heels clicked once more, and the man she selected followed her into the other little business room. As soon as the door shut behind them, one of the other guy mumbled, "What are the chances that we die today?" Aside from someone snickering, everyone else was too nervous to respond. 

Isaac sat in a chair, and Jack immediately placed himself in the seat next to him. It was by far the comfiest chair he'd been allowed to sit in in weeks. Plush, black leather, roller. He could get used to this if he weren't very aware of the possible impending doom for all of them. Five minutes ticked by with no sound coming from the room across the hall despite only one thin wooden door and some air separating them. Jack slumped low in his chair, arms folded across his chest for what little protection they could offer. Isaac put his hand on Jack's knee under the table, and Jack was thankful for that at least. 

Ten minutes went by, and Jack's anxiousness was increasing as each little second tick on the wall clock behind them seemed to reverberate through the room. 

Twenty minutes, and Jack let out a tiny whine. Isaac looked at him, face sympathetic though he must have felt about the same. No one else had heard him thankfully. 

Finally, after twenty seven minutes, the door opened. Only the woman greeted them, the recruit she had called in nowhere to be seen. Immediately Jack felt his breath speed up. "Hong?" Jack wanted to tell Isaac not to go, that he wouldn't be able to wait without him, that he was worried he wouldn't come out either. Instead he tried to convey all this through the look in his eyes, and Isaac cupped his cheek briefly before the woman said. "Don't make me call your name again, Mr. Hong." 

He stood, and left the larger conference room. 

Jack's heart settled somewhere in his abdominal region. 

Another long while passed, though this wait only lasted twenty four minutes. Again the door opened, and again only the woman in the business attire stood in the doorway. "Morrison." He leapt to his feet. Despite all his concerns and reservations, he would prefer not to be yelled at again. If he was going to be murdered and have his body stuffed somewhere in that room he wanted to get it over with. 

Jack went across the hall into the room quickly, and just as she had with the other two before him, closed the door once he entered. "Please, take a seat," she said. He immediately sat down in a chair in front of a desk. He was relieved to see that no, there were no dead bodies belonging to Alexander or Isaac in the room. Instead, there was another door behind the desk that most likely led into a hallway there. He sighed with relief.

The woman crossed the room to sit at the desk, folding her hands primly in front of her. Jack made sure that his back was straight as she looked him up and down. "You have no idea why you're in here today, do you?" 

"No ma'am," he said with a shake of his head. 

"Good. We're doing our job then." Again with the infuriating alluding to something he had no idea of. She gathered some papers, tapping the bottoms of them against the desk to create a neat pile before taking one off the top and sliding it to him. She also offered a pen towards him, tapping the paper with it before turning it over to his possession. "Jackson, I'm going to have you fill out this form. You can read it if you like, I don't care. However I do believe that it is in your best interest if you ultimately sign it."

"You can call me Jack if that's easier." 

Without batting an eye she responded, "I don't care. If you have any questions about the form, wait until after you've read it. If you have any other questions, wait until after you've either read or signed it." He nodded, though he was still a little put off by her earlier comment. He skimmed the top of the paper, something about being recommended by his superiors for specialized something-or-other. Most of it seemed to be legal jargon he couldn't hope to understand in a thousand years. So instead, at the very bottom of the paper, he signed his name.  _ Jackson A. Morrison.  _

"Thank you," she said, and took the papers. She looked him square in the face then for an uncomfortable minute. "John, I'm going to give you some information. Then I'm going to ask you some questions, and you are going to answer them. Alright?" He refrained from muttering  _ Jack,  _ but nodded. "The reason you are here today is because—like the sheet said—there have been three or more of your drill sergeants that have recommended you for a position in this program." He opened his mouth and she cut him off. "As of right now it is classified." He shut his mouth with an audible click. "What you signed is a waiver that says you will be taking part in a physical today that will determine if you are the right candidate to actually be welcomed into the program. However to get to that stage you must undergo an interview process that will be conducted by, well." She pushed her glassed up her nose with her middle finger. "Me." Jack nodded again absently. "The waiver you signed was an indication that you understand the risks of the physical today, and have given us permission to inject you with a fluid based serum that will simply help us monitor your vitals for the next few days. It will do nothing to harm you, and you can confirm this with any of the nurses or doctors you will be in contact with today. However we do recognize that each of you has the right to ignore this option, waver or no. If at any time you wish to back out of this proceeding simply tell us and more paperwork will be given to you to sign, and you can be on your merry way and forget any of this ever happened. I'll be frank with you though. Especially for mere trainees such as yourself, it is a _huge_ honor to be nominated for this position." 

Jack's mouth felt dry. "The reason we have given you an entire day off from your duties is that the serum affects everyone differently. Some may feel fatigued up to the point where they simply cannot move from bed, others may feel perfectly fine and wish to continue on with their day. Those that can will simply get free time to spend in your recreation room until your drill sergeant comes to collect you. Or, if desired, they can reenter their routine for the day with no hinderance. Now, before we move onto the interview part, do you have any questions, or do you wish to back out of this deal yet?" 

He coughed and thought for a moment. For once she seemed incredibly patient. It was so much information to take in, and he felt his head spinning. When he looked up at the clock it took him a moment to decipher how long he had been in that room. Less than ten minutes had gone by, and yet it felt like a lifetime to him. 

"What did the man before me do?" 

"That is none of your business. Also it's classified." 

This time he ignored her piercing words. "Then I...I'd like to stay." 

For the first time her expression changed, and a thin smile worked its way onto her lips. "Very well. We've already done a background check on you as well as all the other candidates. Yours came up clean. There are those whose backgrounds did  _ not,  _ though they are in no way excluded from this program. What we are looking for now is a specific set of qualities we'd like our candidates to have. The purpose of this program is classified, but you can trust me when I say that—if selected—with your help, the world will become a much safer place." 

He stared at her. The prospect sounded like it was right up his alley. When he was a kid he'd dreamed of being able to help the world. Of course, his visions usually came with super strength, the ability to fly, and a flowing red cape. But this seemed close enough. 

"Are you ready?" 

This time when he answered it was solid, concrete. None of his meek tone from earlier. "Yes. I'm ready." 

She leaned in a little, elbows sliding across the desk. "That's what I wanted to hear. Now, let's see..." She took another sheet from the stack of papers, eyes trailing down it until she found what she was looking for. "You were nominated for—quote—'Charisma, dedication, hard work, exemplary marksmanship, trustworthiness, loyalty, and obedience.' Does this sound correct to you?" 

"I...Don't know?" Any confidence he'd had a minute ago vanished. 

"If you can't tell me that this assessment is correct then there is no need to continue with this interview." 

Jack rubbed the back of his neck. It wasn't like him to think positively of himself, much less say anything like that. "I-I guess." She nodded, sated for the moment. 

"Your mother and your lover are all trapped in a burning building. Who do you save and why?" Jack's eyes widened. He wasn't aware there would be questions like that. He had no idea how to answer that either. He opened his mouth and closed it. His lips parted so that he could run his tongue over them. He was stalling, they both knew it. 

"There's—I mean there's no way I can answer that." He wondered if Alexander and Isaac were asked the same question. 

"Very well. Your son and your daughter are dangling off a cliff. Who do you save and why?" 

He shook his head, frustration growing. What was the meaning of these questions? "I can't answer that." 

She clicked her tongue. "Your commanding officer and your long-term friend here—"

"Why are you askin' these? There's no way I can pick who gets to live and who dies. It's pointless! It's-It's..." The look on her face revealed everything. "It's  _ exactly  _ the point isn't it?" 

The woman leaned back, crossing one leg over the other and pushed up her glasses once more. "Well, you figured out the first portion of our questioning. Kudos to you. You're not as slow as initially thought." The backhanded compliment would've annoyed him more if he weren't happy at passing at least this part. "You had two more opportunities to realize what I was doing before you failed." He swallowed thickly. "The next questions will determine your competency in critical thinking. You will be given a situation, and three choices will be provided to you to choose from. You must pick one of the options. Failure to do so will disqualify you from your candidacy. You may ask me to repeat anything I say, however no extra information about these hypothetical circumstances will be given. Are you ready to continue?" 

He nodded yes. 

They went on for another fifteen minutes. She was not reading from any test sheet, which led Jack to believe either she was just insanely good at memorizing, or she had gone through this so many times she knew them all by heart. Jack stumbled through each question, feeling as though none of the options for most of the questions were entirely accurate to what he'd do. He picked the ones he thought were best, the ones he prayed were the best. After the final question she picked up the stack of papers and hit them against the desk again. "Well done, Jack. I'm pleased to announce that you have exceeded my expectations and are qualified for the next step of this program." He muttered  _ thank you _ , and she stood, dusting her skirt as she did so. "If you go out that door to the side, will you know how to get to the medical bay?" He confirmed he did and she continued with her instructions. "Tell the nurse at the desk that you are there for 'the program' and they'll take care of you from there." She stuck her hand out, and Jack cautiously reached for it. They shook and once more she smiled at him, yet again throwing him off balance. "Good work. We'll meet again soon." She stepped aside to let him pass, and he did. Taking a few steps towards the door, he stopped and turned back. 

"What's your name?" 

"That. Is classified." He shook his head, laughing just a little and went out the door she had pointed out to him. Already he could hear her cross the room and call for the next candidate, and he made his way to the medical bay. He spoke with the nurse, who had him follow her into a separate, smaller wing of the bay. Two nurses and one doctor were there waiting, and Isaac was laying in the bed. 

His eyes were closed, but once he heard footsteps they shot open. "Jack! How'd it go?" A nurse instructed him to sit down, but he waved her off, insisting that he was fine. Jack was made to sit in a bed next to him as he answered that he thought it went alright. The doctor was handed a chart that most likely had Jack's medical information on it. She conversed with the nurses quietly until one of them went off. He returned shortly with a dangerous looking needle in his hand and Jack sighed. He wasn't afraid of shots or needles, but that didn't mean he was particularly fond of them either. Isaac leaned over and touched his hand. Jack looked at him and his lips turned upwards. 

The nurse not holding the instrument rolled up his right sleeve and rubbed an alcohol wipe over a small area of his arm. The other stepped forward, brandishing the liquid filled needle. Jack had no earthly idea what was in there, but the blue color was slightly alarming. He took a deep breath, hissing softly as the metal entered his arm. Another second and it was removed. Another alcohol pad was swiped over it, and a piece of tape with cotton in the middle of it placed over. The nurses retreated, and the doctor stepped forward. 

"We'll need to keep you for half an hour of observation at least. After that, any symptoms that you have will either have become apparent. If not, you're free to do whatever." Jack nodded, and the doctor addressed Isaac next. "How are you feeling? Nausea? Lightheadedness? Anything?" Isaac shook his head. "Then you're free to go." 

Isaac remained seated. "If it's okay, can I stay and wait for him?" He jerked his head in Jack's direction. The doctor nodded. 

"That's fine. However if he has to stay here past his half hour, you can't stay with him." Isaac agreed, and the medical personnel retreated. Jack sighed and laid on the bed, emotionally exhausted from before. Isaac let him rest for a few moments before whispering his name. 

Jack looked over at him. "What'd she ask you?" 

He took a moment to remember. Mostly it had just been a blur to him, nothing specific stuck in his head about anything she questioned him about. "A bunch'a questions about who I'd save in weird situations. And then some that were like, 'if you lose your gun, do you a, b, or c' and so on." His friend nodded. 

"Same. Did she seem like kind of a bitch?" Jack snorted and nodded. They sat for a little while, talking about anything but what they had just went through until Jack could feel himself begin to sweat. It wasn't warm in the medical bay by any means, yet he began to feel uncomfortable. Another few minutes went by and his breath became short. He concentrated on taking slow breaths until he felt a lurch in his stomach. 

"Oh no," he whispered, and immediately shot out of bed to get to the trash can next to it. 

"Shit, Jack?" Isaac leapt out after him, immediately by his side and rubbing his back. Jack had nothing from the morning to throw up, so what came out was water and bile. "NURSE!" It took a moment, but the two nurses that administered his short were in the room with them. Jack was shaking, unusually pale. Sweat began to drip down his brow and he was no longer able to control how quickly his chest heaved. He wretched again and let out a sob. With some effort, he was helped back into bed, a pan to throw up in placed in his arms. He cradled the cold metal and wiped away the tears streaming down his face with the back of his hand. 

A nurse told Isaac that he should go, and he practically growled at her. Only when Jack told him that he would be fine did Isaac back off. She told him again, gently, that he had to leave and after looking at Jack for a moment he ducked his head. "Fine. I'm going to basic training with Sergeant Reyes. If anything happens to him, can you let me know?" She said that she would, and he came to Jack's side again. 

"Isaac, can you—"

"Tell Reyes you're out sick for the day? Got it," he said with a grin. 

"'M not sick," Jack grumbled, but the green on his face and the way his hands shot his mouth to ease another dry heave said otherwise. Isaac soothed what little hair there was stuck to Jack's forehead back. The nurse urged him again to leave and he cut her a glare. He took one last moment to trail his hand down Jack's back and stepped away. 

"I'll see you later." Jack raise a hand to wave goodbye. Then he was gone, and Jack was left alone for a few minutes until the bed he was in was moved to another section of the bay. Curtains were drawn around him, and a button was given to him in case he needed any further assistance. The nausea was done for then, but he took a sip of a water bottle that was left on the bedside table for him, swishing it around his mouth before spitting it in the pan. He used a tissue to wipe off his mouth and set the pan to the side. He leaned back in bed and curled up. Sleep didn't come for him, though he would have loved the reprieve from the drastic hot and cold flashes he was going through. His shaking made the bed tremble with him, and the pain that coursed through his body made him cry. He began to wonder if this was worth whatever would come later. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey! it's been a while! since this chapter got sooo long i decided to split it up into 2 parts, and the second part is coming up real soon! (pretty much done, just needs to be proofed). sorry its taken so long tho! school's out for the semester though so hopefully i can update more regularly! no promises tho haha 
> 
> special shoutouts 2 katie for doing writing hours with me almost every night, iridian for proofreading all of my fics before they go out, and terran for almost making me include "jason alexander" as a character name in here because im naive and don't know better. but especially for iridian and katie. 
> 
> u can find me on [tumblr](http://whillowed.tumblr.com/) and [twitter](https://twitter.com/maxalackin)!! let me know if u wanna be mutuals because i love makin new ones! but otherwise ask me any questions/comments/whatnot that you want! iridian and i have a slammin r76 playlist [on spotify](https://open.spotify.com/user/22ohf35fkcwkxrtd7vygohata/playlist/3cLNB4KHtJBdPUhe5gbEPC)
> 
> thank you for reading and see u next chap!


	6. Cover (Part 2)

It was weird when several of his recruits didn't show up to basic training that day. Even weirder when Washington informed him that they had  _ permission  _ to skip that day. He shook it off though, and did the best with what he had. There was thankfully still an even number of students, so Gabriel could stand in the center with his clipboard like he always did. Same old boring shit as usual. After a couple hours passed, Isaac Hong entered the gym, the door to the locker room slamming shut behind him. No one paid him any mind except for Gabriel, and he motioned for Isaac to move off to the side. He joined him after telling a girl to actually  _ use  _ her fists, not just defend.

Hong wasn't too happy if the dark expression on his face was any indication. "Can I get an explanation as to where you were?" The recruit looked about two seconds away from snapping, but he took a second to calm down before responding.

"Jack's in the med bay, sick. He won't be coming today. I don't know about anyone else, but Alexander didn't look too great either."

"Morrison? Is he okay?" Hong twitched.

"Why do you care?" Gabriel opened his mouth to berate him for his attitude, but Isaac switched gears faster than him. "He'll be fine. He's just sick today. If you don't know what we were doing though I probably shouldn't tell you. That's not me being an asshole, it's just classified I guess." Well, what the fuck.

"Why are you here then? I was told not to expect any of you today." Isaac shrugged and looked off to the side. Gabriel sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "Well, limber up. There's no one else for you so I'll be your partner for today." When Isaac looked back up at him, Gabriel's gaze alone was enough to spur him into action. The way Isaac began to stretch was different than how Gabe started off, how he had taught Jack to start. They moved towards the center of the matts again, plenty of space for them there. "We've only got about an hour and a half before lunch, so don't get too into it. Otherwise just basic sparring. Same as the last couple days. You ready?" 

"Born ready." 

Gabriel wasted no time in ducking his head and charging at Isaac, attempting to grab him and get him on the ground immediately. Hong was fast though, and he ducked. He would've hit Gabriel on the back had the older man not twisted around in time to block. They went on like this, neither of them giving up too much ground. Reyes was going a little easy on him, he'd admit. Not only that, but he tried to keep an eye out every so often for how the other trainees were doing.

But Hong was frustrated, Gabriel could easily tell. He didn't know about what and he didn't care. But it was making him distracted, leaving him too open. 

He held up one hand for the recruit to stop, and he looked at the clock. Two minutes until Washington would be there to pick up the rookies. He was running a little late, but whatever. "When you get back from lunch, I don't want any more of this sloppy shit, understand? I want you focused." Hong muttered  _ yeah  _ and Gabriel told him to go get some water. He yelled for everyone to do the same before making his way to his own bottle in the corner. He took a long gulp, swiping at the stray drop when it ran down his chin. Washington came to collect the recruits for lunch, and Gabriel waited a few minutes before trailing after them. As usual he ate lunch with Nassar and Rosita only. Everyone else that was in his little meal group was too busy at this hour. If they weren't, maybe he could've been spared for this conversation. 

Immediately after he sat down with his tray of food, Nassar greeted him with a wicked grin on her face. Rosita sat with her elbows on the table and her laced fingers supporting her chin. "So, Gabe." 

"Don't." 

"Aww,  _ don't  _ bug you about your little lover boy? I thought you wanted us to. Heard things were going well with him." Neither of them would ever let him hear the end of it. 

Instead of remaining silent, he took a bite of his food and grumbled, "Yeah, well your sources are shit. He's gotta boyfriend." 

Rosita looked at the other woman and nodded sagely. "Pay up." Nassar grumbled and fished a few dollars out of her pocket before slapping them on the table. Rosia smiled with her mouth closed and bobbed like a child as she collected the offering and stuffed it into her bra. Gabriel lifted an eyebrow, not wanting to know but his curiosity trumped that. "We bet if he was gonna get a boyfriend the first couple weeks after you mentioned him. Pretty little thing like that was gonna get picked up right away." At Gabriel's look, she at least had the humility to sympathetically add, "Well, to be fair I thought you were gonna go after him." 

"I knew you were gonna be too chicken shit to do anything about it till after he graduated basic. You could've at least told him to wait for you. Would've been romantic  _ and _ —" She cut herself off for a moment to glare at Rosia—"And saved me a few bucks." 

"I wouldn't have done anything at all. Period." 

Nassar and Rosita both said "Uh-huh!" at the same time and much too sarcastically for Gabriel's tastes. He wrinkled his nose and stabbed at his salad. They chattered on for a while, but he paid them no attention. He was annoyed that they wouldn't leave him alone about this, and even more annoyed at himself. He told them goodbye and threw away his half-eaten meal before returning the tray. He hustled back to the gym just before Washington would round everyone up to go back once more. 

Sure enough, just after Gabriel wrote some of the notes he had missed from earlier, they all came trailing in. He counted heads, finding that everyone arrived again just fine. He neither lost nor gained anyone though, and he wondered just what the hell his missing students were doing that was so urgent they'd risk training.  _ Whatever,  _ he reminded himself, turning his attention back to the kids in front of him. "Alright, same as before. Same partners. Keep going 'till time's up or you drop dead." Everyone quickly paired up, and he could see Hong making his way back towards Gabriel. 

Ah, right. He had to do this too. Hong stood in front of him, annoyed look mirroring Gabriel's. They went at each other, exchanging blows and blocking, ducking and weaving around each other. Hong managed to hit Gabriel's collarbone hard enough to make him snarl, and he responded by getting the other man square in the stomach. 

They kept going at each other, steadily becoming more and more aggressive. At one point Reyes yelled for everyone to take a water break, but it was more habit than anything else. He had long since stopped caring about what everyone else was doing, and he knew he shouldn't. The notes were bullshit though, he knew each of their fighting styles like the back of his hand. If he wanted to, at their current skill levels, he could take out anyone he wanted with enough effort. And that's what further fueled his irritation at his current fight. Despite not being bad by any means, Hong was still beneath him. And yet he still...

He threw out his leg in a kick that he knew was far too hard. His eyes widened in surprise, and he tried to pull himself back, but Hong had already pulled up his hands up to block. 

All of this seemed to happen in slow motion. Thankfully, the way he jerked his body back managed to soften most of the blow, but one of Hong's fingers was still kicked back far enough that it couldn't possibly be fine. He muttered  _ fuck  _ right as Isaac snarled out "What the hell, man?! You broke my finger!" He clutched his hand to his chest, and his outburst was loud enough to gain the attention of everyone in the gym. 

"Go get in the showers!" Gabriel ordered, and everyone reluctantly followed instruction. It was a little early, yes. They all knew that but he imagined no one minded. Eyes no longer trained on them, Gabriel stepped forward and held out his hands. Hong let go of his injured one and extended his wound towards his drill instructor. Already it was swollen and beginning to turn an angry shade of red that would soon turn to purple. "No bone's sticking out, so that's good. I'm sorry. I'll get you to the med bay." 

It looked like it took him considerable effort not to snap again, but Hong closed his eyes and sucked in a breath. "I'm fine. I can walk myself." 

"Nah, none of that shit. It was my screwup, I'll explain it to them. It's a quick walk anyway. Washington'll be here to pick everyone up in a bit and I want to be here to tell him what happened. Let's go." 

Hong followed him out of the gym, back to holding his hand to himself to prevent further damage. Gabriel felt like shit about it, but it was a risk when sparring. Still, there was no reason for him to go as hard as he did. He'd make it up to him later somehow. Offer to do a chore for him or something. Still, he couldn't wipe the regret from his mind. Or his face apparently,. 

When he walked into the hospital wing, Hong trailing behind, he was immediately accosted with, "Jesus, Reyes. What happened?" The nurse working the desk was a friend of his, so he could get away with a short and simple explanation. 

"Got too rough during training. Totally my fault, I broke his finger." She snorted before looking behind him and seeing the victim. 

"Alright, come on, this way." Gabriel didn't know why exactly he chose to follow the other two. He could've just apologized again and left. But he stayed. The nurse told Hong that another medical assistant would be with him in a moment, and Gabriel once more offered him his sorry. Hong waved him off and Gabriel nodded. He passed by a few beds on his way out before he remembered something, and he called out to the woman.

She turned back and he asked, "This is a long shot, but can you tell me where the hell my recruits are? Hong mentioned that one of them was sick, and if any of the rest of them are in here, I just want to check. If that's allowed." She took a moment to consider. 

"I can tell you, but I can't tell you what they're here for. If they're sleeping leave them alone, if they don't look well leave them alone, if they tell you to go away leave them alone. There's only three of them here that I know of." She pointed to one bed a little aways from him. "That one, and the two next to it. But make it quick, Reyes" He bobbed his head in agreement with her terms and quickly walked over to where she had indicated. He wanted to ask her why the hell even one of his recruits were in the med bay, but he figured he'd get the same lame answer of  _ it's classified.  _ He pulled back one curtain just a little bit to peek inside. He couldn't make out who was in the bed, huddled as they were. But they looked like they were mid-slumber so he moved on. The second bed contained Cortez. She was awake, though she didn't look happy. They exchanged a few words, just enough for Gabriel to confirm that she was fine. He was glad about that. Walking out and towards the final curtain, he pulled it back and looked in. 

In it was Jack, propped up on a few pillows and with his eyes closed. Gabriel's brows furrowed, but as he'd agreed to, he began to retreat, the blonde called out to him. 

_ Keep walking, Gabriel.  _

He stayed. 

"Sir?" His voice sounded terrible. The dim lighting in the hotel room did nothing to hide how grey his face looked. 

"Yeah?" His voice cracked a little. Upon further inspection, Jack's face was covered in sweat, and he imagined the rest of him was too underneath the hospital sheets. 

"Why are you here?" 

_ Why _ are  _ you here?   _ "I just wanted to check on you guys. A bunch of you were missing from training today. 

The look on Jack's face was pitiful. "I don't think I'm going to make it to extra practice tonight. I'm sorry, sir." Gabriel had to take a moment to see if Morrison was actually serious or not, but either he was a terrific actor or he was absolutely serious. Gabriel couldn't help but laugh. 

"You look like death, and you're worried about missing practice tonight?" This got Jack to smile, however pained it seemed. He stared at him for perhaps a moment longer than he needed to, shifting on his feet. "I, uh. Should go. The nurse'll have my ass if I don't leave you alone." The grin disappeared off Jack's face, replaced with something that made Gabriel's heart twinge. 

"Please stay. Just...for a minute. I've been in here all day and every time they give me something to eat or drink I throw it right back up and...I really think I'm going to die." Blame it on the fact that Jack was hungry and nauseous and dehydrated and tired and scared, whatever. It all culminated into a tear slipping down his face. Followed by another, then another. He brought his hands up to his eyes and bit his lip to keep from sobbing. Gabriel noticed that his forearms were bruised already, probably from IV insertions gone wrong. Gabriel had never been good with people who cried. He didn't know how to comfort them, or what to say. 

Damn if he didn't try though. He sat on Jack's bed, hushing him quietly. "You're not gonna die, Jackie." He continued to weep. 

Cortez called out, strained, from the bed next to them. "What'd you say to him?" Gabriel ignored her. 

He reached out, placing a hand on Jack's left wrist. "Hey...Come on..." Jack pulled his hand back slightly, only to hold Gabriel's hand. He blinked in surprise, first instinct to tug his hand out of Jack's grip. He didn't though. And instead he tightened his own grip.  _ It's just to get him to stop crying,  _ Gabriel told himself over and over again. Yet when he looked up, Jack's head was on the pillow, eyes shut and mouth just slightly parted. His breathing appeared to be slower, but still labored. "Morrison?" Nothing. 

Gabriel slowly released his hand from Jack's and slowly got up. After that he all but sprinted out of the medical wing. Any extra time he had bought himself before Washington showed up was squandered, and he arrived at the locker room at precisely the time the other sergeant did. 

"The hell were you?" 

"Med bay. I accidentally broke one of Hong's fingers, he'll probably just get it reset and splinted and he'll be back. Let him shower though, he's probably rancid." 

Washington eyed him skeptically. "How'd you manage that?" He shrugged in response. The other man dropped it and ordered the rest of them to return to the barracks. Gabriel slunk into the locker room to shower. He washed as he desperately tried to put the earlier conversation with Rosita and Nassar out of his head. Desperately tried to not let the guilt over what he had done to his own student eat him up. The kid was going to be fine, he knew this. but he was probably going to be left with limited use from one of his hands for a few weeks, which would leave him behind in training. He had the urge to hit the shower wall, but that would solve absolutely nothing. He wanted to call his family, but had no idea what he'd say to them.  _ Hola, mamá, papá, abuelita. Lo siento que yo llamé, pero estoy ocupado. Todo el tiempo?  _ He shook his head, the water in his hair flying in all directions. 

He stood under the shower head for far longer than was necessary before wearily reaching out and turning off the water. Still he stayed for a few minutes. Dinner would start soon, but he didn't want to face his friends. Especially after what happened earlier that day with Hong. Especially what happened with  _ Jack.  _ He padded out to the main room and snagged a towel. He took his time drying off and dressing. His night was significantly freer now that Morrison was too sick, and he had trouble recalling what he did before their lessons. 

Ordinarily he would go to the mess hall and stay there, then head to the rec room for a time. But that wasn't an option for tonight. So what then, he asked himself. Suck it up and go force himself to eat the food that he didn't want? Suck it up and go hang out in front of the television and wait for everyone else to show up? He groaned in the empty room loudly. 

Finally he just decided to go to his own room and rest. His group would hound him at breakfast, and he could take some time to consider how to make things right with Hong. Resigned, he shuffled off and thew himself into bed as soon as it was in sight. It took some maneuvering, but he managed to slip off his boots with his face still buried in the pillow. Pants came next, and he simply left his shirt on. He spent a lot of time brainstorming after that. There was no card that said  _ sorry I broke your finger. Can't tell you why I was so angry and distracted because I don't even know.  _ He also couldn't just get him a fruit basket. 

Just as he found a resolution, sleep began to claim him. He drilled the mental note into his head and slipped into an uneasy slumber. 

 

\----------------

 

The next day went well, despite the dark circles underneath his eyes and the fact that at least six people asked him what was wrong in a matter of minutes. All the recruits that were missing the previous day managed to make it back to his training. Jack waved at him, and Hong elbowed him. Gabriel scowled at that, making a note to have Hong take it easy that day—though he had half a mind not to after that. With the way his hands were behind his back, Gabriel couldn't see the cast they had stuck on him. Hopefully it was just a finger splint, though he was worried that his entire hand was out of commission. Still, he assigned everyone partners, calling the injured trainee over before allowing him to do anything. 

When Hong jogged over, Gabriel was shocked to not see some form of bandaging on his finger. "Yes, sir?" 

He blinked away the surprise. "Why don't you have a split on? Your finger could get even more messed up." 

Hong looked down at it before wiggling his right finger at Gabriel. "Yeah, uh. I guess it's fine now. They said I didn't have to wear anything on it, and that I was cleared to go back to basic if I felt like it. Which, with our reviews coming up in five days I figured was a good idea." 

"How can it be fine? I broke it last night. There's no way you can heal that fast unless you're some kind of monster." 

A laugh came before an actual response. "Sure as hell felt like you broke it, sir. That's what they thought too, but now they figure it was just a little dislocation or something." Gabriel said nothing, even though he  _ knew  _ that was bullshit. Hong probably knew it too, but his finger looked completely fine. No swelling or discoloration, and it looked as straight as it was pre-injury. This alleviated some of Gabriel's guilt about the event, but he still wanted to continue on with his plan. 

"Well. Healed or no, I still feel like shit that you had to go down there in the first place." 

"Don't worry about it, sir. I'm alright." 

Gabriel cleared his throat. "Even so, let me take you out for a few drinks tonight, nothing crazy. You're old enough, right?" Hong nodded. "Then you should come. There's a bar on base that won't question if you're a recruit or not. I've got a few hours of free time tonight, after I uh..." He didn't want to bring up Jack. Not with how weird Hong acted whenever he was mentioned or around them. "After I finish up a few things tonight. You game?" Hong seemed to consider for a moment before nodding. 

"Yeah. I've been dry for way too long anyway. Just us?" 

"Yup." 

"Then yes I'd like to go." 

The younger man flinched just slightly when Gabriel clapped him on the shoulder. "Alright. Meet me outside the barracks at ten tonight. I'll come up with an excuse for Washington, as long as you don't blow it." Hong shook his head. "Good. Then as long as you're  _ sure  _ your hand's alright, you can start practice today." Hong thanked him, and left. He was back to doing nothing but standing there and taking notes once again, which ultimately was for the best. No risk of accidentally hurting anyone. But the more he thought about it, the more Hong's break healing so quickly didn't make sense to him. Gabriel's seen a lot of breaks. He's had a few fingers broken himself in his life. He knows what they look like. And he knows that he had definitely broken Hong's finger. Shit like that takes four  _ weeks _ to heal, not four  _ hours _ . He deliberated while occasionally yelling out to correct someone's form. 

Before lunch two people had gotten hurt. One girl just broke a toenail off. While disgusting, he was fine. He told her to get it bandaged and come back. Another boy received a black eye and a couple burst capillaries soon after her. Gabriel looked at it, deemed him fine enough to continue training after he iced it during lunch. 

The entire time he kept an eye out for Hong, any signs that he wasn't doing as well as he let on. But the man seemed perfectly fine.

He wouldn't let his eyes stay too long on Morrison, though he observed that even he was doing pretty decent that day. Better than that if Gabriel was being honest. Maybe the day he'd had off was sufficient enough rest that he needed. Or maybe the hospital room was playing nothing but MMA videos for him. Either way, Gabriel noticed marked improvement in his performance. Nothing that was as alarming as Hong's finger, but Jack's reactions were just the slightest bit faster, and he was more steady on his feet. None of that tripping-over-himself nonsense that he had started out with. Gabriel was a little proud of him. 

Lunch came, and Reyes's mood had improved tremendously. He even felt ready to deal with whatever the two most nosy women in his life could throw at him. 

Mercifully, they left him alone for the most part. Rosita only acted up once, making a kissy face at Jack as he crossed the mess hall, but after Gabriel's glare she laughed and changed the topic. Meal time ended and everyone met back up in the gym. Everyone else managed to keep themselves from harm, and Gabriel's day time concluded without any further hitch. He confirmed with Jack that they would be practicing again that night, and off to dinner he went. 

His usual crowd was there this time. Birdy, Washington, and Nassar all sat on one side with Rosita, Dabney and soon to be him on the other. He snagged a tray and made up a sandwich with the fixings that were offered. He grabbed a drink and a brownie and took his seat, pointedly elbowing Rosita as he did so. She let out an  _ oompf,  _ and elbowed him back. 

Casual conversation was made. Mostly Dabney talked about how some weird woman came into her barracks that morning and asked to 'borrow' a bunch of her soldiers. Well, color Gabriel intrigued. Washington chipped in. "Redhead?" 

"More like strawberry blonde, but yeah. Glasses?" 

"Yup." 

"So I take it you've met." 

Washington snorted. "Hardly. She just shows up yesterday and does the same thing with my recruits. Says she'll probably get back to me soon. Who'd she take out of your group?" Dabney looked at him with a blank expression.

"Classified." They both laughed, but Gabriel and the others were more than a little confused. Obviously the people that were missing in his class yesterday were the ones Washington was talking about, but Dabney was in charge of graduated soldiers. So what in the hell was the end game here? Before he could try and work any more answers out of them—though he doubted he'd be able to as intellegent as they both were—Birdy changed the subject to something else. Eventually Gabriel forgot about it, and at ten minutes to o'seven hundred, like always, he excused himself and made his way back to the locker room. Washington trusted Jack enough to go by himself so he stayed.

Remembering something, he lingered by the table. "By the way, Washington. I need to meet with Hong for a few hours tonight. I'll drop him off later so don't worry about that. But around ten is when I'll pick him up."

The returning look he received was wary to say the least. "First Morrison, then Hong? What is it with people and stealing my damn rookies lately?"

Reyes rolled his eyes. "It's nothing special. Just gonna pay for some wings and watch a game tonight at the sports bar to make up for almost breaking his hand yesterday." He had made sure to cut Rosita off before she spewed something about a  _ date  _ or some shit like that. 

"No drinks?"

"No drinks," he lied.

"Fine. You better go before you're late with the  _ other  _ kid." Gabriel gave him a two-fingered salute and flipped Rosita off when she called out  _ give him a kiss for me!  _ He stopped by the equipment room first to grab his usual duffle bag first, and upon entering the locker room called out to Morrison. Nothing. 

That was certainly odd. He'd made sure that Jack knew they were training tonight, and the blonde always showed up before him—Washington escort or no. He thought nothing of it though, and simply proceeded to change into his workout gear. Just as he finished slipping his shirt over his head, Jack burst into the doors, red-faced and rumpled hair. "S-sorry!" 

Gabriel raised an eyebrow. He wasn't  _ technically  _ late, as it was still seven o'clock exactly, but another ten seconds and he would've been. "And where were you?" 

"Just lost track of time. It won't happen again, sir." The mark on his neck said otherwise, but Gabriel ignored it. 

"Get changed quick, then sparring again if you're up for it." Jack nodded to indicate that he was, and crossed the room to his locker. Gabriel followed him without thinking, hurriedly turning his face when Jack began stripping himself of his clothes. He worked his way past and entered the gym by himself. Hardly a minute passed before Jack stumbled out of the locker room, still trying to tug on a tennis shoe as he went. He nearly face-planted onto the floor. Gabriel snickered. 

Jack looked up at him, a little hurt smile on his face. Gabriel looked away, coughed, then jerkily went to his bag to pull out their gear. Within the next few minutes they had slipped it on and were in the beginning stages of their fight. Jack still wasn't great, but Gabriel liked the new way that he was throwing punches. Less reserved, more fluid. Just because he was a little faster though earlier that day didn't mean he was on Gabriel's level, and soon he was sprawled on his back. Reyes held out a hand to him and Jack stared up at the ceiling, wheezing "Just gimme a sec." 

Immediately the older man was by his side, poking at his ribs to see if anything was wrong. Jack sat up and swatted his hands away. "I'm alright, you just knocked the wind out of me is all." 

He sat back on his heels and helped Jack sit up. "Can you blame me? Shit Jack, you looked fucking terrible yesterday. I'm surprised you're still alive, much less able to spar all day and then come back here tonight." Jack laughed. 

"That was nothin', I'm fine I told you. Just an allergic reaction to a shot or somethin', won't happen again." There was that promise again. 

Gabriel grumbled, "Just don't want you to look that sick again. I especially don't want to knock the shit out of you and have you die on me because of some illness no one told me about." Jack smiled at him, and this time when Gabriel stood and offered him a hand, he took it. They went back at it again after that, working with a few breaks until their time was up. This time when they showered Gabriel made absolute sure not to let his eyes wander. When he looked at the clock, he had a little less than half an hour to meet Hong where he'd designated. Cortez was the one to pick Jack up that night, and the three of them bid each other a good night. Gabriel made his way to his room after dropping off the bag. He changed into more comfortable clothing and relaxed on his bed for a little while before heading over to the barracks. 

True to his word, Hong was there outside. He still had on his uniform, though it would have been odd to anyone else who saw them if he didn't. Gabriel called out to him, and Hong's attention snapped to him. He didn't smile or wave like Morrison was prone to whenever he saw his drill sergeant, and for that he was thankful. They exchanged few words as they walked. It didn't take long for them to reach the parking lot, and Gabriel led him to the car he'd bought. He needed a special pass to be able to park on base, but since he lived in the main building they cut him some slack with the payments on it. 

When they reached a sleek black Camaro, aged with grace, Hong whistled. "No way that thing's yours." 

"Sure is." 

"Fuckin' nice. Classic. Thought they didn't make these anymore though." At least they had finally reached some common ground. Gabriel unlocked the vehicle, and they both slipped in. Gabriel started the engine, and Isaac hummed with it. 

"They don't make them anymore. My great-uncle had one though, and he took  _ damn  _ good care of it. Over the years he upgraded it, so there's a newer engine, and it's a battery instead of gas. But one thing didn't change, and that's the horsepower." 

Hong whistled again. "Find someone. We gotta race." That actually got Gabriel to chuckle, and they started driving towards the bar he'd mentioned earlier. The ride was silent between them, but the radio thankfully picked up on some neutral old-rock music that no one could dislike. He went a little faster than was perhaps necessary, but damn he just wanted to get there as soon as possible. Traffic was non-existent that late at night, but when they entered the establishment it was crowded as ever. There were a few people Gabriel recognized there, but none that would care that he'd brought a recruit along with him. He went up to the bartender, a nice older woman that tried to get to know everyone by name. 

"What's goin' on, Reyes? And who's this cute little thing you brought with you?" 

Gabriel accepted her air kiss on the cheek. "Just a friend, Barbs. Name's Hong." 

She offered a hand to him, and he shook. "Well welcome, sugar. You new here?" He nodded and the grin he gave he was downright charming. "You need anything, just let me know. Karaoke's on Thursdays if you're ever interested, and once a month we get a live show in here." Gabriel didn't feel the need to mention that it'd be at least another while before she saw Hong here again. She turned back to him and asked, "What can I get you boys started off with tonight?" 

"Two beers sounds good, right?" He looked to Isaac for confirmation and he agreed. "Miller Lights I guess."

Even as she moved to fill up two glasses she shamed him. "Better just be a starting drink, Gabe. Don't you wuss out on me. How's the gang doing? Where are they tonight?" He snorted, and accepted one drink when it was offered to him. 

"They're busy tonight, especially Washington. Gotta new batch of recruits, so most of us probably won't be here for another few weeks." She pouted, tucking a stray lock of grey hair behind her ear. As they talked Hong slowly nursed the drink he'd been handed. Though he wasn't saying much, he at least looked interested in the conversation, and so Barbara doubled her efforts. She leaned over the bar as the speakers picked up on whatever mish-mash of sports games that were going on in the background, as well as the thumping music that set the ambience. 

"So, sugar, how old are you? Baby face like yours, no way you're old enough to be here." 

Isaac looked up at her. "Old enough." His quip was meant as a joke, and she took it as such, laughing quietly to herself while she took to polishing to some shot glasses. 

"How'd you meet my Gabe here?" Gabriel looked at him out of the corner of his eye and shook his head ever so slightly. Just because Barbara wouldn't mind that Reyes was bending the rules just a bit, didn't mean that other people at the bar would look at the situation the same way. Isaac caught his eye and opened his mouth. 

What came out was one quick stutter before he fell into the charade easily. "Uh—I. Just sat down with him for lunch one day and we've hung out more." Barbs lifted an eyebrow and puckered her lips. She looked to the drill instructor and he shrugged it off. 

"Well," she started as she turned back to the younger man. "We're happy to have you here. What's your name?" 

"Isaac Hong." 

"Oo, you Taiwanese?" 

He blinked in surprise. "Yeah. Usually no one ever knows that without me telling them though." She winked at him. 

"My granddad was from Taiwan, last name Hong." 

Gabriel was surprised that Isaac looked so purely surprised, yet happy. He'd never seen him with that sort of expression when he was around before. Granted, he didn't seem to like Reyes too much lately. It was Gabriel's turn to down his beer while the two of them talked about some of the cities in Taiwan. He was definitely intrigued regarding the conversation, however he had nothing to add. Barbs filled up his glass again without needing to ask or take her eyes off the young man. He chugged the second beer down quickly enough, quietly asking her to switch to an Indian Pale Ale. She obliged him, and he drank this one a little more slowly. He was starting to feel a little buzzed, but nothing he couldn't handle with an hour or so of abstinence.

Still though, when Barbs decided to bring up the question, "So, you got a special sweetheart?" Gabriel choked on his beer. Isaac gazed at him with an look he couldn't decipher, and Barbs leaned over the bar and laughed. "Forget how to swallow did ya?" He glared at her and wiped his mouth off with his arm. Hong's eyes flickered back to the woman before him, smile spreading back onto his face. 

"Yeah, I got a guy. Met him here a few weeks ago, and we just started going out." 

Immediately she set aside the glasses and cloth she was working with, and leant her upper body on her forearms against the counter. "Yeah? Tell me about him. Hope he's good enough for you." 

He leaned back and slapped a hand over his chest. "You should be worried about me not being good enough for  _ him."  _

"What's his name?" 

Gabriel's chest seized when Hong replied, "Jack. He's..." He paused, lips turned up towards the counter. Gabriel slammed his drink and pushed it towards Barbs. She filled it again. "He's so fucking sweet. Believe me when I'm tell you that he's the best. Cute midwestern blonde, little bit of an accent. Polite as a mother fucker, and works that hardest I have ever seen anyone work in their lives no matter what it is." 

Barbara looked over at Gabriel, and her smile faded just a bit when she saw how sour he looked. His beer was half drunk, but she filled it up anyway and immediately he chugged part of it. "He sounds like a doll. You'll have to bring him here sometime when you can, I'd love to meet him." Gabriel looked over at one of the television screens on the wall. It'd been about forty-five minutes since they'd left the main base. They had another hour or so before leaving, and Gabriel was quickly losing a lot of his control. He wouldn't be able to drive back he realized with a start. He still finished the drink he had before pushing the glass away. 

"How do you feel about Jack— _ Gabriel? _ " 

He wanted to tell him off for that. But he didn't trust his speech not to get garbled in his yelling, also it would be a huge indicator if he was on Hong's ass for not respecting him if he didn't want anyone to know what was going on. 

Isaac had one ankle propped up on the opposite knee, staring into his still nearly full glass. 

"He's fine," Gabriel decided on. 

"Really? Just fine? You've been spending a lot of time with him lately." Barbs said nothing, but her presence there was enough to keep Reyes from losing it. "He sure thinks that you're the  _ greatest.  _ So I wanna know, Reyes—"at least he went back to his last name—"What did you do get him to like you that much? All the extra 'practices,' is that just your way of getting some alone time with him?" 

"Sugar that's enough," Barbs said sternly. 

Yet Gabriel had to make matters worse. "It doesn't even matter, because he chose  _ you. _ " 

Hong sat back with a satisfied smirk. "Alright. Sorry. Let's forget it happened?" God, Gabriel would like nothing more. But he had a feeling he'd remember this for far longer than he'd ever care to. Still, he agreed and asked the bartender for a water. She slid it to him right as he muttered that they were cool. Neither of them said anything to each other the rest of the time they were there. Isaac finally finished his beer, and Gabriel put money on the counter to pay for them. It became increasingly obvious that he had had too much to drink to make it far when he walked. Every so often he needed to find a wall to lean against to catch his breath from the exertion of keeping himself upright and moving in a straight line. Hong, to his credit, stayed with him along the way. "I can drive back." 

His tone wasn't particularly helpful, and if it were anyone else Gabriel wouldn't have fought him. "No. There's a bus that comes in..." He fumbled his phone from his pocket, nearly dropping it twice in the process. "Eight? Minutes." He concentrated hard on the numbers on the screen. "Yeah, eight. Well, seven now." He pointed across the street. "Over there." 

Still, Hong stuck out his his hand. "Keys." 

"No."

This time he didn't say anything, just shoved his hand forward again, and Gabriel sighed and pulled them out of his pocket, too drunk to argue the case further. Hong snatched them from his hand when he wavered, and he followed the younger man to his own car. He all but fell into his seat, and didn't bother with the safety belt. He just leaned his head back against the rest, and Isaac invited himself to the driver's seat. He started the car and the sudden motion made him queasy. He shut his eyes and the car set off. 

The ride back to base seemed a lot longer than it had taken to get there despite it being the dead of night. He felt awful, both physically and emotionally. Granted, he had planned to stay a bit longer, maybe order some food and chat a while. 

But the fucking conversation about Jack...He couldn't. Not in that company, not with inebriated as he was. At last the car pulled into a stop and Isaac shut off the engine. Gabriel peeled his eyes open and made his way out of the car with great effort. Hong offered to help him, but Gabriel waved him off, taking enormous care to not sound like a douche when he did so. They walked into the barracks, one of Gabriel's hands steadily on the wall next to him. For once something seemed to go right in his life, and that was that they only passed a single custodial person as they walked. They reached Isaac's bunker first, and he slipped into the half-open door. 

Just as he started to walk away, he heard the younger man whisper to him, "Hey, Reyes." He turned around and couldn't tell if the dark look on Isaac's face was real or imagined. "Thanks for taking me out tonight. It was fun." 

Before he could answer, Isaac disappeared. Gabriel took a moment to lean against the wall and let his head hit it with a dull thud. He wanted nothing more than to throw up and just let that shitty day be over with, but he had to make it to his room first. By the time he got there, the desire to vomit had eased, and he was left with a dull ache that filled his entire torso. He fell into his bed, not bothering to undress except to kick off his shoes. He held onto his pillow and stared at the wall for a long while. He stared at it until it had stopped wobbling around in his vision. He stared at it until he could no longer keep his eyes open, and still he did not sleep. His mind was blank for the most part, only an occasional thought about the night crossed his mind, but he actively shut it down before he could feel anything about it. There was nothing he could do, and certainly no one he could talk to about this. He felt alone, and he felt miserable. 

Despite him so desperately pleading not only with himself, but God as well, sleep did not find him that night. He only managed to slip into it two hours before his alarm went off, and it took everything he had in him not to scream. He decided that breakfast was unimportant enough to skip, and thanked whoever was listening that Washington had relieved him of his morning jogs. There was not a force on earth, or a consequence too dire that could stop him from staying in that bed an extra two hours. 

When his alarm went off the second time, indicating that he  _ really  _ needed to get up, the only reason he didn't try to launch himself from the roof top was the thought that this ordeal with Jack and Hong and all the other trainees in that group would be over in four days. 

Four more days of his 'alone time' with Morrison. The fifth day couldn't come soon enough. 

With great effort, he hauled himself out of bed. His head absolutely  _ throbbed  _ in pain, and he took fumbled around for two Advil and downed an entire water bottle before he could even pry his eyes open. It was already shaping up to be another horrible day. He had to—more than once—swallow down the urge to puke as he moved. 

He swore once, then again as he stood up. 

Maybe he'd go to the med bay and get something a little stronger for the headache that was threatening to split his head in two. Maybe he'd just find a way to force himself into a coma. 

Neither of these things ended up happening as he dressed and made his way to the equipment room to prepare for training that day. 

As the recruits poured in one by one, Gabriel found himself dreading the moment Jack and Isaac would enter. He didn't doubt the possibility of Hong snitching that Gabriel at least liked Morrison. And took him outside the property he was supposed to remain until he graduated basic.  _ And _ took him to a bar, where he got so drunk that he could not drive them back. The severity of the situation just now hit him. Since he hadn't pursued Jack in any manner, there would be no issue there. He'd get a little more than a slap on the wrist for essentially kidnapping a recruit, but nothing major. But what had followed after could be grounds to terminate him, destroy his reputation, maybe even—

But the two walked in, and Jack smiled at him like he always did, and Gabriel felt just a little bit better. There was nothing that could be said for how Hong regarded the drill sergeant, but at least it wouldn't be obvious to anyone else. Certainly not Jack. 

To his surprised, Washington followed in behind the lot of them, jerking his head for Gabriel to come towards him. His blood went ice-cold, but he made his way over all the same. 

Washington turned them around so that they no longer faced the recruits, and he kept his voice very low. "Everyone that was missing a couple days ago is going to have to dip out for a few minutes to go to the med wing. A follow up or something. They know what times they have to leave, and it should be kept short. Don't ask questions." More with the secrecy shit, but he nodded all the same. The sudden rush of doom that he had felt left him just as Washington did. He made his way to the center of the matts, and ordered everyone to get into groups of three. He explained that two people would be turning on one person, and the one defender would fight until they were knocked on their back. Then the role of the solo agent would switch each time, until two full rotations would occur. Then they'd go off to the side and wait until each group was done, and groups would be rearranged. 

Gabriel had to go over this a few times with a couple demonstrations. He understood though, it was a hard concept, and frightening for some. He assigned everyone their partners, and ordered them to begin. 

The first person left a little under an hour into the training. Alexander. He came back right as rain, and Hong was sent out. As soon as he came back, Morrison left. That is where the problems started. The group that Hong was in kept turning to cast disgusted looks at him every so often. He watched as the looks spread one by one. They disappeared quickly enough, but Gabriel had a feeling he knew not only the cause of it, but the perpetrator behind it. 

One by one groups came to the side as he instructed, and Morrison came back in time for his two partners to conclude their sparring. He steadied himself as he prepared for Jack to finally find out what Hong knew, but it never came. 

Lunchtime (that Gabriel spent alone) and training concluded with nothing more coming from it. No more nasty looks, no more anything. Jack approached him and asked if they were practicing that night, and Gabriel dumbly bobbed his head. There was nothing different about his attitude. He was beginning to think that he'd simply imagined the negative aspects of the day as a result of the pain bouncing around in his head and the lack of sleep. 

He continued to think that until he made his way to dinner that night, Isaac seated at his usual table, with his usual companions. As he approached, Hong turned around and grinned. 

There was a sharp wave of nausea that rolled through Gabriel that had nothing to do with his hangover. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> here's part 2 of the chapter! if real long ass chapters happen like this in the future i may just do 2-parters again? do you guys like the longer 1-view chapters or how i had it before? let me know! 
> 
> u can always find me on [tumblr](http://whillowed.tumblr.com/) and [twitter](https://twitter.com/maxalackin)!! ask me anything, send comments, or whatever u want! feel free 2 follow for updates or if u wanna be mutuals lol. for your listening pleasure iridian and i have a really good [spotify playlist](https://open.spotify.com/user/22ohf35fkcwkxrtd7vygohata/playlist/3cLNB4KHtJBdPUhe5gbEPC) so check it out :)
> 
> thank you's to iridian and katie! iridian for always proofing my fics, and katie for doing writing hours with me almost every night! helping me be productive. also thank you for reading!! see u next time!


	7. Watch and Wait

The fear rolled deep in his gut. He took his seat next to Dabney and held his breath. Hong ignored him after the initial smile, continuing his conversation with Washington. It was about everyone that had had to stay in the med bay a few days ago, and by extension that meant Jack. In fact, he mentioned Morrison only once, and Gabriel watched to see if he gave him that damn  _ look  _ that he normally did. He didn’t, and Gabriel didn’t know if he was more or less relieved. He did know however that the brief desire to knock Hong’s teeth out crossed his mind, even though he knew that’s not what he actually wanted. 

Instead he watched, picking at his food, as Washington explained to Isaac that he wasn’t at liberty to tell him the condition of any of the recruits. 

“Well, yeah. But, sir—” 

“Hong, I told you I’m not allowed to give that information out. Even if I was it’s not much of your business.” Ah, that was the drill sergeant that Gabriel knew and loved. 

“It is my business if they’re gonna do something like that again. Morrison and Cortez looked like they were going to  _ die.  _ I was scared I was going to lose my friends. What happens if we all have to get another—” Washington cut him off with a cautionary glance, and Hong halted, correcting himself. 

_ Another what? _ Gabriel wondered. 

“What happens if we have to do it all again, and this time someone really does die?” 

Gabriel didn’t like Hong. He didn’t like him at  _ all.  _ But the way his voice wavered at the end of the sentence, and the way he looked to be pleading with Washington only made him seem more sympathetic than he had been the past week. 

“I’ll level with you,” Washington started. “I don’t know what that woman wants with you. We only know her credentials, and we know that she’s a hell of a lot higher up than any of us. You can ask around all you want, but no one but her is going to be able to tell you anything more than me.” Hong nodded, and stood from the table. 

“I understand, sir. Thank you anyway.” 

Washington flapped one large hand at him. “Just go get some food. We’ll cross whatever bridge we have to when we get to it, alright?” Again Hong bobbed his head and disappeared to his regular table. Gabriel could barely hold his sigh of relief in as Isaac retreated. 

Dabney sighed. “He’s a nice kid.” Gabriel would beg to differ. “If he’s gonna make it here though he’s going to have to learn not to go sticking his nose everywhere.” Birdy agreed with a gruff  _ yeah,  _ and for the first time, none of the rest of them had anything else to say for the rest of dinner. No doubt Gabriel was not the only one with a million questions on his mind, despite just hearing two of his friends advise against it. He figured Nassar and Rosita felt the same exact way, and wouldn’t be surprised about Birdy. 

They all left, sullenly saying their goodnights to each other. Gabriel prepared for his lessons with Jack that night. Only three more nights until his review, and Gabriel was feeling confident for him, even if Morrison refused to believe that he could pass. He was also counting down the days until he no longer had to deal with this entire mess. Jack would move on to Victory Forge, and Gabriel wouldn’t see him until after his basic training was up. He swallowed thickly at the reminder that once Jack finished basic, he might never see him again. He shook his head, unwilling to consider the possibility and unwilling to consider how much he cared. 

Jack showed up to the locker room just after him again, apologetic smile on his face and another new bruise on his neck. Gabriel sighed. Technically Jack would never get reprimanded for this, but you never knew how much people would talk behind your back if you showed up looking like you’d just spent the past half hour making out. 

But that wasn’t Gabriel’s business. 

The two of them got down to work, and Gabriel upped the difficulty of his sparring up a notch. At the end of their training, Jack had managed to knock Reyes down once, a proud glint in his eyes that wasn’t diminished even when Gabriel socked him in the chest. They showered after, and Gabriel made sure he didn’t even glance in Jack’s direction until the two of them were dressed. He heard Washington open the door to the locker room after he dried off his hair. Jack was still pulling on his boots, so Gabriel yelled at Washington that they were coming. 

Reyes sat on the bench a few feet apart from the trainee. He stared straight ahead until he heard Jack cough timidly. 

“Um…” That was when Gabriel turned his head towards him. “Do you think I’m gonna do okay durin’ evals? I mean, I know we’ve been practicing every day for about two weeks, but do you think it’s enough?” 

It wasn’t Jack’s fault that things seemed to be going to shit in Gabriel’s life. So when he replied, it was without any of the irritation or anger he’d been feeling recently. “If you don’t pass, I’ll give up my job and start basic training right back with you.” 

“Is that a promise?” Jack laughed, and tied the laces of his shoes before standing. Gabriel rose after him, and Jack exhaled lowly. “Thank you though, I really mean it.” 

“You’ve told me thanks enough. And I’ve told you I’m just doing my job enough. Jackie, you might’ve needed some extra help to make sure that you’d move on from combat skills. But all this talent that you’ve come out with lately? Knocking me on my ass tonight? That’s all you. I didn’t store some ancient technique in you to make you a better fighter. You did this by working hard and wanting to do better. Alright?” 

The blonde nodded slowly, eyes cast downwards. “Is it all me though?” 

Gabriel blinked. “What do you mean?” 

“Ever since—” just then Washington decided to open the door to the locker room once more and called out for Morrison. Gabriel looked from the entrance to him, but Jack had already dropped whatever he was going to say and headed for his instructor. Gabriel swore internally, but followed him out. He and Washington exchanged a few words, and Gabriel never got to hear exactly what Jack was going to say to him. 

He walked back to the rec room, hoping to catch some of the news with Dabney before lights out. She wasn’t in there, surprisingly. For as long as Gabriel had known her, she never missed a night in front of the TV during their free time. He checked the clock on the wall to make sure that it was indeed the right time for their nightly ritual (though lately Gabriel had missed a few rounds). Nassar had followed him in, plopping on the couch next to the man. “You looking for Dabney?” He nodded. “I haven’t seen her either, not since dinner. It’s been almost four hours, Reyes. Where do you think she is?” 

“If I had any idea what the shit was going on around here these past few days, I’d tell you.” 

She sighed loudly, and picked up the remote. The news had nothing but bad news. Omnic protests were rising. A college campus shooting in England had gone down. Gabriel was starting to get sick from all of it. 

 

\----------------

 

When Gabriel woke up the next morning, his bad mood carried over. He had hoped that maybe since Dabney didn’t show up last night, she might’ve made it to breakfast. No such luck however, and only Rosita was at their bench. They were mostly quiet until she looked up at him and said simply, “Hey.” 

Without looking up from his tray he answered, “Hey.” 

“You’ve been acting real weird lately. What’s up with you?” 

“No I haven’t,” he replied, scowl setting in at his hard French toast sticks. 

She learned over the table to pat his arm, and only then did he bring himself to make eye contact with her. Her normal joking nature was gone, and she had none of the energy she always did. Instead it was placed with concern, and he hated that he wasn’t able to hide his problems enough to not make her fret. “Come on, Gabe. We’re friends. We’re all worried about you.” 

“Oh great,” he barely managed to keep the snarl out of his voice. “You’ve all been talking about me. Perfect.” 

“That’s not what I meant, Reyes, and you know that. Stop with the B-S, stop with the deflecting. Something’s bothering you and we can tell. We  _ care  _ about you, Reyes. And if you’re not feeling well, or if something’s wrong, we can help.” He remained silent, and she pressed, “That’s what friends are for. We all know you’d do the same for us.” He grunted, knowing that part to be true at least. 

Finally, after a minute of searching for what to say, he settled on, “It’s not something you can fix for me.” 

“Is it about Morrison?” His silence told her everything. “Hey, come on. We’ll lay off if it’s annoying you that much.” 

He wanted to remain vague, but she wasn’t making it easy. “It’s not that.” 

“He turn you down?” 

“No!” She laughed at that. 

“I know you wouldn’t ask him out anyway, you’re real stubborn like that.” 

Still, Reyes felt that she deserved to know at least the half truth. He wouldn’t tell anyone about everything he had felt, and deep down he did know that he would get over it soon enough. But with everything and everyone egging him on, he just needed a break. With the reviews coming up soon, he knew he’d get it. So what was the harm in confessing just a little? “Morrison’s dating Hong.” 

Softly, she breathed out, “So you  _ did _ like him.” He looked away sharply. “Oh, Gabe. I’m sorry. It’s okay though. There’ll be someone else!” He resisted the urge to say that right then, he didn’t want someone else, but he just mumbled out a  _ thanks. _

“It’s not an issue. The only problem is Hong knows about it, and I’m stressing the hell out about what he’s going to do with that information.” 

She hummed. “I can ‘talk’ to him if you want.” At the word ‘talk’ she made sure to use air quotes, just to make sure that Gabriel really  _ really  _ knew what she meant by it. He huffed out a laugh. 

“No, it’s fine. I don’t think he’ll say anything but...Christ. This sucks.” Just saying it outloud helped him more than he thought it was. Rosita gave his arm another little pat and she leaned back. 

“It blows, Gabe” 

“It really fuckin’ blows.” 

His admission wasn’t enough to make him feel suddenly better. But it offered him the tiniest bit of solace to hear someone else confirm that it was a shitty situation. They didn’t say much else of it after that, moving onto lighter topics that steered away from any potential love interests. He got up, and she went off to go work out in the weight room. Gabriel was just about to enter the gym when he saw Washington, Nassar, and some woman he had never seen before outside the entrance. His brisk pace suddenly skidded to a halt, and the three of them paused their conversation to turn to him. 

The woman he didn’t know was wearing an immaculately pressed pantsuit, a dull grey color that reminded him of some snobby teacher he used to have back in middle school. The way her hair was in a bun and the glasses didn’t help that either. “Uh, hey.” 

“Reyes, I’m assuming?” 

“Yeah. Who’re you?” 

“That’s classified. I’m going to need you to come with me for a little while if that’s alright.” He began to protest, gesturing to the wall of the gym before she cut him off. “Nassar will take care of your class for the day. By tomorrow you’ll be able to teach them again, don’t worry.” 

Gabriel eyed her skeptically. “Where are we going?” 

“You’ll see.” 

Washington shrugged when he looked over at the man. He mouthed  _ it’s her,  _ and Gabriel was confused for only a moment. The same woman that had borderline kidnapped Washington’s and Dabney’s recruits for a day. The same woman that was for some reason shrouded in absolute secrecy. He almost wanted to cut and run, unwilling to go through what he had seen Cortez, Alexander and Morrison go through. “What if I say I’m good? No need to take me anywhere?” 

Without missing a beat she responded, “That isn’t an option. It doesn’t have to take long, I assure you. But the less time you stand here wasting my time, the less time we have to spend together. Get it?” 

He could respect the attitude. He thought about it for a moment before deciding to just do what she wanted. Maybe he’d even have time to get back to his recruits before Nassar ended up murdering one of them. “Yeah, sure. Fine,” he told her, looking to his friends for any indication of what he was about to go through. 

There was nothing. Wonderful. 

Mystery Woman began walking, and Gabriel started. Apparently him ‘not wasting her time’ included travel as well. She wasn’t even near as tall as Gabriel, yet he found himself struggling to keep up without having to jog. After just a couple minutes they arrived at some conference rooms that Gabriel had only ever been in once before. The office across the hall on the other hand, was completely unfamiliar to him. She closed the door to it behind him, long strides bringing her behind the desk. She motioned for him to sit, and he nearly stood out of spite. 

“Mr. Reyes, you don’t know why you’re here today, correct?” 

“Nope.” 

“Good. To start off, I want to tell you that you have been specifically chosen for our program. I can’t tell you what this program is for, but I can tell you that it is an incredible honor for you to have been chosen.” Everything that she said seemed so  _ rehearsed,  _ and it did nothing to ease his nerves. “I’m going to give hand you some papers that I’d like you to sign. You can read over it or not, up to you.” She paused to slide some sheets that were on the corner of the desk towards him, and she reached over to tap the pen that was in front of him. 

As he began reading, she distracted him with, “All it is is some paperwork indicating that I have permission to interview you, and you will allow us to perform a physical where we will inject you with a serum.” He bolted upright in his seat. 

“Now hold on. Is this the same stuff that you gave to all those recruits a couple days ago?” She nodded her head only once. 

“It effects everyone differently. Many of those who were selected were perfectly fine and able to go about their days. Even if you are met with some side effects, they will be gone by the time you wake up tomorrow morning.” He looked away from her to keep reading. He skipped what he didn’t understand, and had to reread several times what little he did understand. The papers said the same thing she just had and he hesitated. “Listen. If you sign these now we can proceed with the interview, that’s it. If you want to opt out we’ll let you. You’ll just need to sign another few papers. This contract is the no-risk one. We can get on with it if you sign it, but if you don’t I need to inform you that there will be no going back. Even if later you find out about the program and want to join, it will be too late. I’m authorized to tell you a little bit more about the program than I was with the recruits though at least.” Gabriel leaned back in his seat. If there was no harm in just listening to what she had to say, then well…

“I’m listening.” 

She ignored him and instead tapped on the papers again. “Sign. They also guarantee your silence on the matter—at least for the time being—then we can talk.” He did, and she took the papers from him. “Thank you.” Without any other lag, she began, “I’m sure you’ve seen all the news reports if you’ve bothered to turn on a TV in the past few years. Omnics are growing more and more unsettled within their communities. If you ask me, I don’t blame them. But more and more omnics are resorting to violence each day. What this program is, what it will  _ be _ , is a resistance to the rising threat. Each and every one of you that we have interviewed and will interview is a prime candidate to the mission we are trying to achieve. Peace. Not just for now, but for as long we can get it for.” 

For what seemed like a long while, Gabriel was left speechless. He had some other questions that were on the tip of his tongue, but the one that came out was, “Do you really think we can do it? Bring peace I mean.” 

Instead of directly answering, she countered him. “Do you think we can? Gabriel, each and every person we are recruiting across the world is valuable to this program. If we can’t get your help, then fine. We’ll make do without. But I’m asking you today to become apart of something so much bigger than you could have ever dreamed. Your talents, combined with your leadership? Absolutely an asset. It’s up to you to decide if we can make the world a little more safe.” 

He cleared his throat to mask the fact that he was stunned and let out a short chuckle. “You really do know how to sweet talk a guy. Fine, yeah. I’m in for now. Start the interview.” 

The questions that she asked him were blatantly transparent. Save his son or his daughter? Significant other or parent? Classic psychological questions. There was no right answer except to answer that there was none. He knew that, and he knew that she knew. So she just smirked at him and moved onto different questions. 

All in all, it wasn’t a difficult interview. Surely she must’ve stumped some other people with her questions about what to do on the battlefield, or how to direct X number of soldiers to meet Y goal. Not him though. No, Gabriel was as smart and smart as he was strong. The perfect soldier. And the woman in front of him knew that. Which is why when she said, “Look. Typically this is supposed to go on for a lot longer. But clearly you know what you’re doing, so if you don’t mind, I’m just going to go ahead and give you my recommendation, and send you on your way to the health clinic to get the physical and your shot. Deal?” 

Smug, Gabriel answered, “Deal.” He knew his way back to the docs, stopping only to say hi to some friends he didn’t see too often. He was feeling downright confident in this decision. Besides, if he changed his mind and wanted to drop out, he always could. He’d completely forgotten just how messed up some of his recruits had gotten the other day from this ‘injection’ until a nurse brought out the needle that was going inside his arm. Gabriel Reyes was not afraid of needles. In fact, Gabriel Reyes was not afraid of anything. But the sudden thought that that could be him, laying in the hospital bed and wondering if he was going to die crashed his mood just a little. 

As the nurse asked him, “Ready?” And he echoed the word, he couldn’t help but think back to Jack’s red-rimmed eyes, the green color of his face, the way he was so terrified for his life...He shook his head right as the needle jabbed into his arm. 

Gabriel held his breath, dreading the possible effects from it, but there was nothing. After an hour of him feeling nothing but a little tingly, they let him go. What they had injected him with was just a simple serum that allowed them to view all of his vitals, his eating habits, etc. He’d read articles about such a serum before, but the information on it was all mostly top secret. Gabriel wasn’t allowed back into teaching for the day though, too high risk. Before he left he had asked if he was still going to be able to do the private lessons he always did. The doctor looked at him like he was stupid, and told him resolutely, “No.” The frown that took over his face then lasted until he trudged into the rec room. To his surprise he found Dabney on the couch. 

Normally when it was just her, she’d swing her legs and take up the entire sofa, or at least put them into someone’s lap while she relaxed. But today she was slunk into one cushion, one arm thrown over the side rest, blonde hair looking greasy and terrible over the back of the couch. She looked awful, and Gabriel had only seen her from behind so far. 

Slowly, he made his way in front of her. There were massive bags under her eyes, and her face was paler than he had ever seen. He couldn’t stop himself from muttering, “Christ…” 

Her eyes flicked up and she croaked out, “Hey.” 

“Dabney, I’m sure I don’t need to tell you this but, you look awful.” 

She snickered. “Aw, thanks, Reyes. I tried to doll myself up for you and everything too.” Her legs were stuck out in front of her, and Gabriel stepped over them to sit next to her on the couch. With what looked like a  _ lot  _ of effort, she hauled herself up into an almost seated position. “I’m actually doing a lot better than I was. Just got to leave the med bay a couple hours ago.” She looked over at him. “Did you uh.” She stopped there.

“Get ‘recruited’ or whatever?” She nodded. “Yeah. Got that injection too. Is that what’s got you so messed up?” 

“Yeah. Lucky you though, don’t have to go through all this.” She tried to gesture to herself, but her arm mostly just flopped back down the moment she raised it. Gabriel grimaced. “It’s alright though. I guess I didn’t have it as bad as some of the other people. She dropped her voice and looked to the sides before continuing, “I heard one guy died. I don’t know if it’s true or not, but the stuff they gave us is seriously no joke.” Despite her best efforts to sit up, she began sinking back down. 

Only then did Gabriel realize that the TV was turned onto the news. Probably to make up for what she had missed last night. They fell into a comfortable silence as a newscaster talked about the  _ terrible tragedy _ that befell a small town just that morning. An omnic had walked into an office building and started waving a gun around, threatening to kill anyone that crossed it. Police had arrived, and the omnic was killed before it could hurt anyone. 

Gabriel opened his mouth to speak, his voice hitching a bit as he said, “She tell you what was going on?” Next to him, Dabney bobbed her head. “So you know that that’s gonna be what we’re fighting.” She repeated the motion. After that, neither of them said anything. After the report, Gabriel switched the channel to some cartoon that was on. It was getting to be lunch time, but neither of them really wanted to eat. As the hours passed, Gabriel only grew more fatigued. Dabney on the other hand looked a little better as time passed, and she dozed off every once in awhile on the couch. A few people entered the rec room during their time in there, but no one stayed for long. For that Gabriel was grateful. 

As it reached dinner time, he gently shook his friend awake. Again, the two weren’t keen on forcing anything into their stomachs, but they were at least feeling up to joining the rest of their group. Only once Gabriel stood did he realize how completely depleted of any energy he had, and his vision went black for a few seconds. Dabney was there to support him and shuffle along beside him as they made their way to the mess hall. 

She grabbed an apple, a meagre sandwich, and some chocolate milk while Gabriel just took some cracker packets and water. They were a few minutes earlier than everyone else, but when they finally showed, the two of them had to suffer through each and every one of their companions asking if they were alright. It was sweet that they cared, but Gabriel’s lack of juice was dampening his ability to not become annoyed at repeating himself. 

When Nassar showed, she merely wrinkled her nose at him and asked the same question they all had. 

He ignored her and mumbled, “So how was my class today?” 

Nassar sat with her tray. “They were all good. Apparently I’m going to be training Morrison tonight, so you don’t need to worry about it.” Rosita raised her eyebrow, but didn’t say anything. 

“You didn’t maim anyone?” 

“Not a single kid.”

Gabriel let out a mock sigh of relief. “Thank god. When you told me you’d be subbing for me today, I was worried at least one of them would end up in the hospital.” 

“Oh, like you broke Hong’s finger?” His joking grin turned into a glare, and she held her hands up in surrender. “Sorry, sorry. But for real, you got some good recruits in there. From what I saw, Morrison’s doing really well. No doubt he’ll pass the assessment in a couple days.” 

Ah right. The reviews. Just three days away, and out of his two last lessons, Gabriel wouldn’t be there for one of them. “Don’t go easy on him tonight. Just because you  _ think  _ he’ll pass doesn’t mean that you can’t still teach him.” 

“Believe me, Reyes. Doesn’t matter how pretty his face is, it’s still getting bashed in tonight if he doesn’t stop me.” 

For what felt like the millionth time that day, his expression turned sour. “I didn’t say to hurt him.” She laughed and said that she knew. Gabriel mentally checked out for the rest of their time together, and after he threw his little cup and plastic wrappers onto Birdy’s tray, he announced that he was going to bed for the night. Dabney at least seemed to be doing much better, and she headed out with the rest of them back to the rec room. Gabriel reached his room and shed his clothing. He was left in only his boxer briefs as he climbed into bed. Despite being so exhausted, he couldn’t sleep right away. His skin began to feel like it was on fire, and he rubbed at his arms, legs, torso, whatever he could get his hands on to try and alleviate the feeling. He’d already thrown his covers off and tried about thirty different positions on the bed to try and get cozy, all to no avail. 

Several hours of tossing and turning later, the heated feeling subsided, and he was able to drift in and out of consciousness without feeling like he needed submerge himself into an ice bath. 

Despite the fact that he got maybe two hours of sleep in total, when he was officially awake the next morning, all of the previous day’s exhaustion seemed to have dissipated. When he swung his legs off the bed, the needle-like sensation that had kept him from actual sleep was gone. He was back to feeling like his normal self. A little bit better maybe. 

To be honest, he was surprised that he didn’t feel any different besides his energy level rising way above how he’s felt for the past few weeks. 

Breakfast went fine. The turkey bacon he got didn’t feel like a brick when he chewed it, and Dabney joined them. Freshly showered and rosy-cheeked, she looked infinitely better than she had when he saw her yesterday. She and Rosita talked about something or other, and Gabriel was just happy she  _ could  _ seem as engaged as she was. Washington wasn’t there, and Gabriel somehow knew that he was going through the same thing he had yesterday. The day had all the makings of a normal one, right up until yet again he found the woman from yesterday standing outside the locker rooms. 

She called him over, and didn't say anything after he approached, ignoring all of his questions. Fine by him. He leaned against a wall while they waited for whatever they were waiting for. 

After a few minutes Nassar came jogging up, panting lightly when she reached them and stopped. “Sorry,” pause for a quick inhale, and then her breathing was normal. “You called when I was already on the other side of the base, had to sprint back.” The woman nodded, tight-lipped and displeased. 

“I suppose nothing can be done for those who wish to be tardy.” She made a face and looked like she wanted to argue, but the woman continued before she could. “Reyes, Nassar will be teaching your class again today. After that you are free to resume your normal activities. However, for today we still need you.” Gabriel stared at her, mouth falling open. 

“You’re kidding, right? I—” He didn’t way to betray anything more in front of Nassar, who was trying to hide her  _ I’m trying to look like I’m not listening but I totally am _ face. He didn’t want to get himself into trouble, but he most certainly didn’t want to get her in any trouble. He’s seen spy movies, he knows what happens to people who hear something they’re not. He sincerely doubted that the woman would just whip out a gun and shoot her, or wipe her memories or something, but he didn’t know what other punishments could be given out. And he didn’t want either of them to find out. 

After a few more ‘pleasantries’ were exchanged, Gabriel was ordered to follow the woman around again. She led them down the same path to the conference rooms, but instead of making a right where she normally would, they took a left. They went down a hallway that Gabriel had never seen, and the flickering light above them did nothing to give a great first impression. 

They took one more left, and Gabriel almost ran into her when he didn’t realize that she stopped. He halted immediately, and she placed her palm onto a scanner. A blue light flashed, an irritating beep rang out, and the door slid open. 

Funny, he’d never seen anything like that on base before. They were mostly reserved for top secret government facilities. 

Oh,  _ shit.  _

Multiple people were in the room already when the two of them entered. It was a darkened room not unlike the other meeting rooms, though instead of white walls and furniture, everything was black. There were blue lights that decorated the sides of each plush chair, the border of the table, and some tiles on the floor. It was an odd room to say the least, something Gabriel had only ever seen in sci-fi movies. The interior of it matched nothing else on the base, and he wondered just how recent an addition it was for all the security passcodes, metal door, and high tech facilities. 

There were already several other people seated, and Gabriel couldn’t clearly see any of them, but he recognized Dabney with her arms crossed and a familiar smile on her face. He was instructed to take a seat wherever he liked, and he immediately made his way over to his friend. He plopped down, and started to whisper a question to her when a cough from across the elongated desk stole his attention. He squinted, and Washington’s dark figure became more apparent when he leaned closer to the surface and the blue lights helped illuminate his face. 

“What’re you guys doing here?” 

“You think she told us anything?” Gabriel chuckled and shook his head. A few of the other people shifted in their seats. Without anything to help, he could just barely make out a few faces as his eyes began to adjust to the darkness. There were a few people he had seen around base, one woman he recognized had been his old drill sergeant before she got promoted. A couple other people he didn’t recognize, even when the woman pressed her palm to the scanner once more, letting the door slide open and let some of the fluorescent beam filter in for a few moments. They waited for a long while, quietly making idle conversation with each other. Apparently Washington had gone through the same interview process Gabriel had yesterday, and Dabney the day before. He’d stayed in the med bay for a day, extreme fatigue and minor nausea. 

Gabriel nodded in grim sympathy. They heard a couple other people in the room speculate on how they had gotten themselves into this situation, but Gabriel found he was mostly at ease with it. There was no danger in here that he was aware of, and even if something happened, they had some of the best trained people on the entire base in that room. Frankly, Gabriel was honored to even be included in whatever this was. Dabney was the most skilled tactician and sniper that he’d ever met, and Washington was the only man that has ever given Gabriel a run for his money as far as sparring went. Another man he had recognized earlier was a lieutenant who Gabriel knew to be the best marksman they had. The list went on as he looked around the room. 

Even those he didn’t know must have done some noteworthy things. When the woman came back in the room, she did so with another woman. She was the only one that had passed all forty training simulations with a 100% success rate. Gabriel whistled lowly. She was seated close to him, and the woman walked, heels clicking, to the front of the table. 

Behind her, the TV lit up, casting a white light around them. Gabriel blinked, and he heard someone let out a snarl at the abrupt change. She ignored all of their visceral complaints, and began whatever long-winded speech she had prepared for them this time. 

“If you’re in this room, congratulations. If you all recall the interviews that were undergone the past few days with both recruits as well as higher personnel, you’ll know that this meeting has to do with it. Not only have you passed both the physical evaluation as well as verbal, but you did so well enough that I have been instructed to offer you all something very special.” She paused, obviously for some dramatic effect. Gabriel spared a quick look around the room and found that everyone was staring at her, waiting on whatever she was going to say next. Gabriel had to admit that he was enraptured too. “The founders of this program have deemed everyone here worthy of leadership roles in our new program. You have a right to refuse, of course. But should you accept, once everyone is inducted into the program, you will each be given your own team after training is completed.” 

He frowned at that. They’d already been through Army’s basic, how much more could they possibly be expected to prove themselves?

“You may choose the members of your team as you see fit, though if there is a conflict with multiple commanders picking the same soldiers, they will be allowed to choose which team to join.” 

“So is that gonna be our title then? ‘Commander?’” The Lieutenant spoke up.

She turned her gaze towards him then, bored. “Yes. I know it’s going to be somewhat of a demotion for you, but you will still have the same position within the Army you ever choose to go back. Please note though that if you do, you will never be allowed to share the information you have accumulated, and you will never be allowed to come back, or maintain contact with anyone else still in the program.” That shut the commander up, but it begged several questions that Gabriel didn’t have time to think of before she went on. 

“You have each been chosen for your individual skillsets, as well as your ability to work effectively in teams. As commanders, in the event of any battles or missions you will be assigned, you are expected to lead every single man or woman in your company to the best of your abilities. Casualties will not be taken lightly, and depending on the situation you may lose your title. We understand though that with any potential war there are bound to be injuries or deaths, that is unavoidable. However the preparation into the program is so valuable to not only us—but the entire world. If you are ever deemed unfit to be a commander, you will be stripped from your rank and discharged. If you decide to agree to this offer, you must understand the risks that come with any negligence that may occur. Got it?” Everyone that was before her nodded. 

“The public has not been made aware of the severity of the situation, but government officials have been made aware of the growing threat that is being presented. Several threats have been made not only from the Omnic side, but ours as well. Terrorism on both sides is increasing, and we fear that a full-fledged war may break out any day. With advanced technology, more machines are being created to add to their military. With that, we too must make accommodations in order to meet their standards.  _ If  _ the Omnic leader declares war, then we are going to do everything we can to stop it.  _ You  _ are going to do everything you can to stop it.” 

The screen flickered to a picture of a devastated city street, several buildings blown to nothing more than rubble. Gabriel recognized it from a news story about an Omnic bomb that was planted in Nice, France. More and more pictures dances across the screen, the colors dancing across her back, all the while keeping her front side in total darkness. Her glasses were the only things that reflected any light. “Every single day there are more people and Omnics that fall victim to extremists on both sides. Men, women, children, Omnics. All are dying to prove some damn point. If you choose to accept this role, you will be one of the forerunners into stopping needless tragedies such as this.” As she spoke, Gabriel’s eyes flickered from the screen, back to her, his eyes widened at such loss and destruction that he had certainly never seen from any news source. 

Suddenly, the pictures behind her stopped. The lasting image of a woman holding her child while screaming, her face frozen in pure and unadulterated torment still remained in his mind. “I have one final question for you today. Are you willing to join our program, and to command every soldier within it to save the world?” 

She was met with a resounding, “Yes,” from every individual. 

“Then welcome, everyone,” she smiled, “to the Soldier Enhancement Program. The SEP.” 

 

\------------------------------------------

 

Jack had never been more afraid in his entire life. Well, that was a lie. The most nervous he had ever been was when his name was called at graduation and he had to walk across the stage on the lawn. The pin he had received for baseball had fallen off, and his wrestling pin was askew. He had a small pimple on his chin that he hadn’t noticed until his friend had pointed it out when they were aware from a mirror. She offered to pop it for him, but the idea mortified him. He felt like everyone had supervision and could see everything wrong with him. The entire walk up, he could only concentrate on not tripping, not falling, not making a fool of himself in front of  _ everyone.  _ He almost forgot to shake the principal’s hand, taking one step too far forward and having to turn back around. For a brief second he had frozen entirely, until he remembered that he had seen a few other people mess up too. They were still alive, and so was he. He exhaled, smiled at his now former principal, and returned to his seat. 

This situation was a lot different from then. 

Currently, he had a woman that seemed to be made of solid muscle grinning at him wildly while he held his nose. A couple pokes and prods and he deemed that it wasn’t broken, but his spirit sure was. 

Last night she had twisted his arm behind his back for so hard and long that he’d nearly cried. She refused to let him go until he could break himself out of her hold, and eventually he had done it. Not without almost dislocating his shoulder. But he’d done it. She played a lot dirtier than Reyes did, and Jack’s bruised and battered body paid the price. 

Without giving him a chance to recover, she swung her fist towards his face. He dropped to one knee, letting go of his nose. He surged forward, hoping to catch her in a tackle. She side-stepped, and dropped her elbow into his back. This time he went down on both knees, one hand supporting his upper body as he hacked. “C’moooon, Morrison. No way Reyes let you off this easy. In the real world, people aren’t going to play f—” She was cut off by her own yelp as he swung out his leg to knock her off her feet. She went down, though she sprang to her feet much quicker than Jack would have thought. “Nice one. Do it two more times and I’ll let you leave with all of your teeth!” 

He swallowed, waited for her to aim a kick at him, then reached out with his palm flat to hopefully knock her back. She knocked his arm out of the way and punched him in the stomach twice. When he tried to get up, she put her foot on his side and pushed, throwing him onto his back. He stared up at the ceiling fans as they rotated slowly and groaned as he rolled back over to try and pick himself up. 

Thankfully she didn’t try and attack him while he did so, but as soon as he was on his feet Nassar was on him once more. He blocked a few times, but most of her hits seemed to be landing, each one hurting more and more. After a while of just destroying him, she called for a water break. 

Miserably, he went to his bottle and slumped against the wall as he drained all but a small portion of it. He criss-crossed his legs and pouted. 

The sweat was making his tan shirt stick to his back, and his jogger pants had a rip on them from when she tried to curb-stomp his knee and just  _ barely  _ missed. His hair was plastered to his forehead, and he must have looked as down as he felt, because the next thing he knew, Nassar was sitting right next to him. 

“Hey, you’re doing well.” 

“Really? It doesn’t feel like it.” With one last swig he drank the rest of the water and tried to will his muscles into relaxing just the slightest bit. He stared at his hands in his lap. He didn’t want to look at whatever look she was making at him. 

It was always the same.  _ Poor Jack Morrison can’t do anything right. Never good enough at anything. Give him what he wants out of pity.  _

“You  _ are.  _ I’m going way harder on you than your examiner will, trust me. Plus there have only ever been, like, three other people that knocked me down like you did. That alone’s pretty impressive. You’re real damn sturdy, take hits like no one I’ve ever seen which is fuckin’ amazing. Just make sure to block, let your opponent wear themselves out, and then go in. Your punches are no joke, Morrison.” 

When he looked up at her, her lips were tugged up in a way that looked like she was fighting a smile. She seemed like a completely different person than the woman that had made them get on and off their bus sixteen times on their first day at base. He let out a long sigh, and slowly worked his way back up the wall until he was standing once more. “Alright. I guess I’m as ready as I’ll ever be.” She sprang upright, and noticed his grin. 

“That’s the spirit! Just keep doing your best and you’re gonna be alright.” 

The rest of their training time dragged on. He did manage to throw her to the ground only once more, and after she cracked her back, she clapped his shoulder and congratulated him. 

Even though he hadn’t felled her the two times she had required to not knock out his teeth, she let it slide. He’d followed her advice and let her wail on him for a bit, before returning some blows. Yet again after they were done, she’d told him she was ‘impressed.’ He tried not to beam at the compliment. After they were done, he showered alone for the first time in what felt like forever, and Washington was still absent like he’d been the past two mornings. Instead, Isaac was there to greet him and walk them back to their bunks. He pulled Jack towards a closet along the way, sucking at Jack’s neck and letting the blonde grind against his leg for a few minutes. Regretfully, they had to pull away to avoid suspicion, and Isaac whispered in his ear to let him know the next time he was going to shower alone. Jack shivered, and their temporary drill instructor replacement greeted them as soon as they entered the barracks. 

Chores were finished already by the time they arrived, and Jack was thankful to just be able to lie down in his bed and rest for a little while. Isaac sat by his side, quietly watching him until Jack flicked his eyes to him. Only then would he smile down at him, and Jack wanted to kiss him again. 

Lights out came, and Isaac once again tore himself away so they could sleep. Jack wondered if there was ever going to be a time where they could just do whatever they wanted. 

Probably not. 

As exhausted as he was, it took him some time to fall asleep. He wanted to know where Washington and Reyes were, but he didn’t want to mention it around Isaac. He also knew that he probably wouldn’t get answers from anyone else, so instead he just worried for them in whatever spare time he had. Just as he began to drift off, he was startled by the realization that their combat evaluations were the next day. He was about halfway down the list of recruits, so he would be going after lunch that day. 

Sleep evaded him for a long time as he tried to focus on the bed rails above him instead of the colors that danced across his eyes due to the darkness. He knew he should just close his eyes at the very least, but he was gripped with worry. 

Fear struck his heart and if he had tried to move, he wouldn’t have been able to. Every single little thing that could possibly go wrong made its way through his head, and still he laid there, staring at the little stain on the mattress that peeked through the bars above him. Still he stared at the ugly light blue pinstripe pattern on it, and the way it dipped whenever the man above him moved. He felt like he was going to be sick. 

Hours passed like that, and slowly he crept up and out of bed. He tiptoed to Isaac’s bunk, and breathed his name quietly. 

The other man was not a light sleeper, Jack knew this, but he still cringed when one of Hong’s eyes cracked open. 

“Jack?” He whispered, and Jack jabbed his thumb back towards the bathrooms that were connected to their barracks. Isaac slid off his bed, and followed Jack to the stalls. There was no door, and neither of them trusted the tile to stifle their voices any, so they kept it as quiet as possible. “Jack, what’s wrong?” 

“I…”  _ have no idea what to say.  _ Jack looked around for anything that could help him put the words in his mouth, but nothing leapt out at him. He bit his lip and stood there, shoulders slumped. Isaac put a hand at the back of his neck and tilted his head. 

“Is it about the reviews tomorrow?” He didn’t trust his own throat to not seize if he tried to speak, so Jack simply nodded. “How many times do I have to tell you, you’re going to be okay?” 

He wanted to shout then, but as soon as he opened his mouth he snapped it shut again, nearly biting the tip of his tongue in the process. He tried again, this time much more quietly than he was going to. “I know that you told me that, but believin’ it for myself is-is...It’s just impossible. I’ve never been able to do anything right—” 

“Jack that’s not true.” 

“—And why should this be an exception? Just because Reyes and Nassar trained me for a couple weeks doesn’t automatically mean that I’m on par with everyone else. I mean,  _ fuck.  _ Why am I the only one that he’s ever had to train like that.” He turned around sharply, wanting to angrily grip the sink, but all he found was a urinal before him. He kicked half-heartedly at it. 

“Jack,” Isaac began slowly. “You’re not the only one in the history of ever to be bad at fighting when you first start. I mean, look at everyone else. Half these guys probably got into a billion fights as kids. Hell, I’m one of those guys.” Jack looked at him over his shoulder. “It’s probably just that no one ever wanted to hurt your pretty face.” That got him to chuckle at least. 

“Alright. Answer me honestly, and no bullshit. I mean it, Isaac, none. I want your complete honest opinion.” 

“Of course, Jack.” 

He paused for a second, almost not wanting to hear the answer. “Okay...Okay...Do you…” He slowly faced Isaac once more. “Do you really, honestly, truly believe that I can pass tomorrow? Do you think all three of our evaluators and the person I fight against will all agree that I passed this portion of basic training, and let me go on?” 

There was no hesitation when Isaac said, “Yes. One million percent, yes.” Jack sighed, and looked at the floor. 

“Okay. Alright.” Isaac held out his hand, wiggling his fingers when Jack didn’t take it right away. Tentatively he grasped Isaac’s hand, and flicked his eyes up without moving his head. 

“Come on. Let’s get you to bed, and tomorrow’s gonna be okay, you’ll see.” Jack let Isaac lead him back to his bunk, and he crept under the covers almost silently. Isaac crouched by his side for a moment, letting Jack kiss him before he stood up and retreated. Jack turned over to lay on his right side, forcing his eyes shut. Every time a nagging insecurity found him, he just repeated Isaac’s worths of faith until they were quelled. With this strategy he was able to relax enough to fall asleep for a few hours. 

 

\----------------

 

Washington was there the next morning sometime before Jack had woken up. He knew this because his booming voice was the one to rip Jack from his slumber. Blearily, he sat up and blinked a few times, trying to get his vision to focus. He rubbed his eyes and yawned loudly before wincing as Washington hollered to get anyone who managed to sleep through his first call up. 

Moving at a much slower pace than usual, Jack dressed and went to go use the bathroom and brush his teeth after. He stumbled along, at one point bumping into someone else. He muttered an apology and also crashed into another person.

Already he was dreading how the rest of the day would turn out. 

Since he took so long, he had to wait in line as all the urinals were taken, and then the sinks before he could even wash his hands. When he was finally able to, he splashed water on his face and  _ scrubbed  _ at his eyes, at least managing to make the world unblurry once more. There was nothing that could be done for his fatigue at that moment, so instead he smeared some toothpaste on the bristles, and shoved his toothbrush under the faucet before putting it in his mouth. He spent too long even doing this, if the cough from an impatient recruit behind him was any indication. He glared at his reflection in the mirror before he spat and rinsed out his mouth. He stepped away, and the person behind him dashed forward. 

He rolled his eyes, unable to mask the grumpiness that was settling in due to his lack of rest. Isaac found him shortly, bumping his shoulder with his own before they were ordered to line up to head to breakfast. 

Jack hardly ate a thing, disliking the way his stomach refused to unknot itself. He barely spoke to anyone, just grumbling, “M’just tired is all,” and leaving it at that. 

After breakfast they were herded to the locker rooms, and Jack changed into his sweats and t-shirt faster than he had gotten dressed earlier. He pulled his legs up one at a time to lace his tennis shoes, and followed behind everyone else while they went into the gym. It was empty aside from three people seated behind a fold-out table on the opposite side of it. Upon walking closer, Jack could make out that Reyes, and two other people he didn’t know were there. Jack was a little surprised to see Reyes there, what with him disappearing for two days straight. Nonetheless, it was nice to see someone who had supported him this entire time be there. Though he had no delusions of Reyes giving him any special treatment, he wouldn’t want it anyway. He looked around but he couldn’t find the person that they were supposedly going to spar against. He hoped that it was someone big and slow. 

Strength he could deal with, insane speed like Nassar he apparently could not. 

One of the women at the table spoke up, shouting over their hushed whispers until the lot of them settled down. She instructed them to listen to her right off the bat. Everyone shut up, and she stood. 

“Here’s how we’re going to do this; we’ll start in alphabetical order by last name. First person to go gets to stretch before their match, the rest of you are going to the other gym to stretch and warm up as much as you want. We’ll break for lunch when half the students have gone, and then after we’ll resume where we left off, pretty basic. For the actual evaluations, you will have ten minutes to score as many points as you can against your opponent before we call time.” Jack nodded along with everyone else as she spoke. “Clean hits are two points. This involves kicks, punches, strikes with your palm open—” she was making the movements as she went along, just in case any of them were dumb enough to not know what she was talking about. 

“Unclean hits will only result in one point. These are slaps, scratches, elbows. You get three of them before we start to take  _ away  _ points. If you knock your opponent off their feet at all, that is four points. Each successful block will award you one point, any evasions or dodges that we find particularly good will receive up to two points.” Jack liked the way that she bobbed to mimic it. 

“Any special moves can be awarded up to three points. Things like flips, handsprings, anything that we deem ‘cool’ counts.” She paused for a second, then stressed, “ _ Illegal  _ moves include chokeholds, or any kind of holds, going for the groin area or eyes. Striking your opponent while they are down, or finally, unsportsmanlike conduct. Any of these will get your points taken away, and before you ask,  _ yes  _ it is possible to obtain negative points.” 

She gestured to both her sides where Reyes and another woman sat. “Us three will each be taking note of how you are doing, making any comments we have. At the end of evaluations you may receive your forms from us if you choose. If not it will just go in the trash after we make copies. Once your ten minutes are up, you will be told to stop, and we will take a few minutes to confer with your opponent, and your points will be tallied up, and you’ll be given your point number in addition to being told if you passed or not. A minimum of forty points must be achieved in order to move on in basic training. After you find out if you made that score, you’ll be free to join everyone else in the other gym. Everyone got it?” 

Everyone did get it. 

“Alright. Starting with Abbey. The rest of you follow your drill sergeant and we’ll see you in here when it’s your turn. Dismissed.” Everyone that wasn’t Abbey moved to follow Washington into the gym that lay across the hall from the current one. There were a few rubber mannequins in there, as well as punching bags, and a few benches for weight training. Mostly the floor was open, and two large TV’s that were affixed to each wall were on. One showed the news, though the volume was muted. Jack watched for a few moments, hating that the subtitled were belated enough that it was just easier to read the newscasters’ lips. 

Something about a school in the area being shut down due to insufficient funding, then they cut to a story about a police officer gunning down an omnic that had attempted to rob another omnic’s home. Jack pursed his lips, turning to face Washington when he yelled for them. 

They were made to stretch for a while, then they were allowed to do whatever they want. 

Isaac and Jack had gotten separated before, and Jack scanned the room to try and find him. He was walking towards a wall, probably to sit back against it while they waited. Jack made his way over, and Cortez and two of his other friends sat down with them moments after Jack lowered himself in front of Isaac. He had barely been given a smile before Cortez swung an arm around him, pressing their faces close together. 

“This is it! Last day we have to deal with this shit.” Jack tried to peel himself off her side, but she held firm and would not budge. Isaac laughed and agreed with her. Jack was not so sure it would be his last day, but he didn’t voice his concern. She released him, and he returned to his original position. Normally he wouldn’t mind being manhandled like that, but he was just extra sensitive right then, though it certainly wasn’t here fault. 

Just a little while later, Abbey came back into the room. Acrom was sent in after him, and Jack tried to run through his mental list of everyone he knew. 

There were enough people in front of him that he was sure that he’d be going after lunch, though he wasn’t excited about it. He’d rather get it done and over with, but it simply wasn’t an option. Instead he waited as quietly as he could, and tried not to stare up at the clock as often as he did. Four more people came and went, then came back again. After the third person had come back and shouted that they had passed, it became the standard for everyone to do the same. Cortez was the fifth person to go, and the first out of their little group. She jumped into the room and whooped, a cheer echoing around her after she bragged about her win. 

One after the other, everyone came back in and announced their triumph. Some looked more ruffled than others, and one girl even came in with a split lip, further injury caused when she couldn’t wipe the grin off her face. 

Not a single one of them failed, and whereas Jack was glad for them, he prayed that he would not break that streak. 

Isaac was the sixteenth person called in. He gripped Jack’s knee, and promised he’d be back soon. Jack fell even more silent than he had been before. True to his word, in less than twenty minutes Hong made his way back. 

He headed over to Jack, apparently forgetting the tradition that had started of telling the group about his fate. It wasn’t until someone called out the question, before he bellowed, “PASS!” And stuck an arm up in the air. As they had for the other recruits, many people cheered. A little less than four hours had passed, and Jack was growing antsy. Isaac plopped down in front of him, a large bruise blossoming on his arm. Jack reached out to touch it, gazing at him sympathetically. 

“They ain’t goin’ easy, huh?” 

“Not at all,” Isaac breathed out and snorted. “I got fifty-three points, which is pretty good I guess? I don’t know. One of the women there told me it was.” 

One of Jack’s other friends piped up. “Who were you fighting against?” 

At this, Isaac shrugged. “No one I’ve ever seen before. And I’m not supposed to tell you anything about him. Could get in trouble. Plus they’re switching every ten recruits, so five in total.” Cortez nodded along as he spoke. Hymowitz was called next, and they were down to five more people before they broke for lunch. Jack could feel his hands trembling, and he shoved them in his lap, took a deep, long breath, and blew it out. Once he had done so, he felt just the slightest bit better, and perked up. 

He engaged more as his friends talked around him, and he wasn’t glancing up at the clock every thirty seconds, wondering when the hell he’d be forced to go. Yes he still felt the anxious pit in his stomach, but it was better now. Six more people came and went, and as the last person came back in, Washington stood from where he was perched on an exercise bench. 

“Alright, everyone. Time for lunch. We get half an hour, then right back in here for everyone but Morrison.” He looked across the room, making eye contact with Jack. “You’re going first as soon as we come back.” He frowned, but still trailed after everyone that left the room before him. This time, no matter how he felt, he did manage to shove some food down his throat. He didn’t like it, but he had to admit just having a few extra calories was enough to quell his fear even more. 

Strangely enough, he was becoming more and more calm. The realization that it was finally going to be over, and pass or fail, he was going to try his hardest. 

And really, so what if he didn’t get enough points? It’d be humiliating, sure. But it  _ was  _ only nine more weeks. He winced as he realized that it was a month and a half still. He was further perturbed by the fact that he might get moved down to Fort Knox or Fort Benning, as his failure at Seattle might diminish the name of the newer trainee program in place. 

_ Well, so what?  _ He reasoned with himself.  _ You fail, so what? You get moved, so what?  _

Just try again. 

And with that, he walked into the gym, faced the examiners, and stood tall with his head held high. It was often that he could so easily talk himself out of a slump, but deep down in his heart he was as determined as he had ever been. Reyes was still writing something down, and the woman that had given her speech to them early was quietly talking with the other woman next to her. He didn’t waver. 

After just another few moments, the first woman turned to face him, and Reyes tucked his sheet aside, and pulled out a new one. 

“Morrison,” she called. 

“Yes, ma’am!” 

She smiled at him, not unkindly. From what he’d heard in the waiting room of sorts, she was not an unkindly woman. Fair, but not a complete hardass. A lot like Reyes actually, Jack thought. 

“If you did not know, my name is Sergeant Taylor. To my left is Corporal Smith, and I’m sure you know Drill Sergeant Reyes. You’re going to be sparring with Jumper today. Or rather, Ezekiel David. He normally doesn’t do this sort of thing, but he’s graciously allowed us to borrow him for today.” 

At the mention of his name, Ezekiel came in through the locker room. He was carrying a clear water bottle that looked to be freshly filled, and had a towel over one shoulder. Jack had seen him before. He was one of the ones to help him first read an army map correctly. They’d gotten started on a conversation about his first and last names, and when Jack had offered up that his middle name was Abraham, he’d spent nearly twenty minutes talking to the man. It had been nice to find someone of common faith, but Jack hadn’t seen him around since. 

The man wasn’t too large. A little shorter than Jack, and the same decently muscled build. That was all Jack knew about him though. 

Reyes’s advice stuck in his mind during their numerous fights, find a weakness, exploit it. Nassar’s own commentary made a resurgence. Take a few hits, just block as best as he could, then deliver his own punishment. 

David whipped the towel off, and grinned at Jack. “You ready?” 

“Yes, sir!” He turned back towards those who would be reviewing him, and they all nodded. 

“Then get in your stances, and when I whistle you can begin.” Jack and David headed a few more feet back from their table, and stood at opposite ends of the faded painted-on circle. David squatted a bit, arms bent in front of him with his fists held loose. Jack mimicked the move, though one of his legs was placed a little further back than the other. He looked over at the judges, and saw the glow of a holographic stopwatch. The time was set to ten minutes. As he looked forward to his opponent once more, she whistled, and Jack waited to make a move as Davis immediately ran towards him. 

Jack was able to dodge the first hit that came towards his face, but the second punch would’ve caught him square in the mouth if he hadn’t raised his arm in time. He stumbled back, dropping his hands to push away one of David’s legs that was rushing towards him. David kicked again, this time catching Jack in the stomach. He went for a counterstrike while the other man was regaining his footing, fist catching him in the chest. 

Two points for the clean hit, one point for the blocks, possible one point for the dodge. 

Call it three. 

David leapt at him, hit landing on Jack’s shoulder. He blocked three more of David’s hits, ducking down while he tried to deliver a roundhouse kick. Those were by nature slow, and Jack knew he had a window of time before David could recover from it. 

He used his back to knock out the one leg David was standing on, and sent the other man tumbling down. Four points right there. Jack twisted onto his knees and sprang back to his feet. He would have smiled if they were on a time limit, and if David wasn’t already trying to nail him in the face once more. 

Duck, block, block again, attempt to punch. It didn’t land, and instead David knocked his arm aside, and shoved his palm into Jack’s chest. It hurt, but not enough to stop Jack from bringing his leg up and knocking David back with it. He took a few steps backward, but didn’t fall. Jack grimaced as he felt some sweat fall into his eye, but he just blinked it away instead of using any time to swipe at it. Right after his kick he surged forward again, landing one punch and one knee. 

There wasn’t a lot of time to evaluate exactly what David’s weaknesses were, nor was Jack particularly good at it. But he did notice that David wasn’t keen on defense, even if he was able to quickly focus his attacks. He was fast, but not any faster than Jack was. 

A few more blocks later, and Jack was able to jab him once more, and he took a chance and stooped down to stick his leg out underneath David’s foot. He fell, giving Jack another four points. 

Jack was beginning to think he might just be able to do this. 

He risked a look at the clock, and was rewarded with a sharp sting to his cheek. It was a straight slap, and David snorted a little at the incredulous look on Jack’s face. Served him right though. He’d long lost track of his points thus far, but they still had six minutes to go. He figured at least with the two knockdowns and several hits, he was at least halfway there. 

As the fight continued, he didn’t let his guard down once. David didn’t seem to be wearing out, despite the fact that Jack was his third fight. It was incredible, really. 

Just a few more blocks later, Jack was able to land first one hit, then a kick, and finally a jab with his hand. He dodged once more, and stumbled. It was all the opportunity David needed to push him down, and Jack fell onto his elbows. He was given no chance to get up, and David picked up one foot, stomping it down onto the mat where Jack’s stomach had been just a second ago. Thankfully he rolled out of the way in time, but David did the same move with his other leg. Again Jack tumbled out of the way, somersaulting on his front side, and pushing up on his feet as soon as they were under him. He whirled around, and actually managed to catch David’s hand as he was aiming at his head. Not just block, but  _ catch.  _ Jack smirked as he held on, and clocked him once in the cheek as a payback for earlier. 

David fell to his knees, and needed a moment to get back up. From there blocks and hits were exchanged, but nothing exciting happened until the timer let out a shrill  _ beep  _ and both fighting men froze. 

Only then did Jack remember to be concerned about his points, and he looked bashfully towards Reyes and the two women. Taylor stood again, and Jack righted himself so that his back was straight, feet shoulder-width apart, and his hands grasped his opposite forearms. 

“How do you think you did?” 

That wasn’t what he was expecting to hear, and he stuttered out, “I, uh, I think alright? I hope I passed.” Next to Taylor he could see Reyes roll his eyes, and he smirked when Jack’s attention flickered briefly to him. 

“Well, don’t just think it.” He needed a second to process this, but he didn’t get it as she immediately continued. “Congratulations, Morrison. You passed and may move on with basic training.” He felt lightheaded with disbelief as her words finally sunk in. He’d actually done it. Apparently she wasn’t finished though, because next she said, “Not only did you score sixty points out of a required minimum of forty-five, but you are now in the head for highest score so far.” 

“What?” He blinked, and he had to stop his mouth from falling open. 

“You’re in first place this batch, Morison. There’s no prize or anything, but if you’re into that kind of thing you can brag about it to everyone. You didn’t break any records or anything, but it’ll be hard to beat your total.” 

“With all due respect, ma’am...No way.” 

Reyes smiled at him, and Jack’s heart leapt. “Yeah way.” 

Before anyone could say anything else, Jack’s face broke into a huge grin. He was dismissed to go back to the other gym, and if he chose he could shower with everyone else as soon as he checked in with Washington and the next recruit was on their way for testing. Reyes, David and Smith all offered him their compliments, and Taylor once more sincerely congratulated him. 

The elated expression remained rooted on his face as he entered the room where everyone else was, and he loudly announced that he too, had passed combat skills. 

He didn’t expect the loud, uproarious cheering and praises from everyone else, and he ducked his head as he passed them, blush blooming on his cheeks. Several people called out that they knew he could do it, and Washington stopped him by grabbing his arm, little quirk of his lips undisguised. “I’m proud of you. We all know how hard you worked for this.” It was a tremendous feeling to know that he’d had this much support. 

After that, he half ran-half skipped over to Isaac and the rest of his closer friends. Isaac was standing, and Cortez was slapping her hands together excitedly. The other two were sitting up, looking at him in anticipation. 

Jack laughed as Isaac nabbed him in his arms and kissed his cheek hard. They pulled away slightly, though Isaac held onto his biceps, and Jack gripped Isaac’s forearms. 

“I told you that you got this.” Jack was unable to wipe his expression off. 

“Yeah, ya did.” 

“How many points did you get?” They released each other, and Isaac moved to slide down the wall once more, Jack echoing his movements so that he could lean against Isaac’s side. 

“It’s embarrassin.’” 

Cortez drummed her palms against his leg. “Aw, you passed though! Nothing to be embarrassed about! Can’t be higher than me though.” Her shit-eating grin gave away her joke, and Jack cleared his throat before answering. 

“I got, uh. Sixty. Which I guess puts me in first.” 

“Shit, Jack!” He winced, expecting to be reprimanded for some reason, but all he got were exclamations of how happy they were for him. Eventually he was able to completely relax, and though he still wasn’t talking much, it was more out of happy exhaustion rather than nerves. He rested his head against the padded wall and smiled as they all talked.  

Only once Jack had sat down did he realize all his little aches and pains. Sweat covered his entire body, and he made the resolution that he would get up and go shower in just a few minutes. He had a little microscopic cut on his eyebrow that stung, but at least it wasn’t noticeable. When he looked down at his arms and legs, he was unable to tell which bruises were from Nassar or David. His knuckles were scraped, and he regretted forgetting to tape them up before fighting. David had, and Jack hoped that he hadn’t hurt him at all. Probably not with the way he was still bouncing around after Jack was ready to collapse. 

When he finally pulled himself up and said that he was going to go take a shower, Isaac offered to go with him. Cortez whistled, and Jack felt his face heat up yet again before Isaac flicked her in the forehead. They left together, and made their ways to the locker room. 

Once inside, Jack headed for his locker to peel off his clothing and grab his soap and shampoo. Isaac’s locker was close to his, and Jack peeked over while he brought his shirt over his head. Isaac was openly staring at him, and he felt mildly self conscious. He took off his boots, shoved his socks inside, and started working on his belt. 

“I can help you with that,” Isaac offered, leaning against the compartments. Jack chuckled nervously. 

“Thanks, I got it though.” Isaac shrugged and undressed faster than Jack had. They padded over to the showers, and Jack concentrated on getting himself clean before Isaac propositioned him again. He’d just rinsed his hair off before he looked over at his companion. His eyes trailed down Isaac’s body and rested on his now growing erection. He snapped his gaze back up, and Isaac smirked. “Kiss me.” 

Jack barely had time to prepare himself before Isaac was on him, pressing him back against the shower wall as the water trickled over them. They kissed until they were breathless, and Jack’s legs were shaking so bad they could barely keep him up. Isaac slid a leg between his, and Jack whimpered as he pushed closer and let Jack use his leg to get himself off. 

It was quick, Isaac doing nothing to hinder him with the way he mouthed at his neck and bit at his chest. When Jack finished, he hugged Isaac to him and moaned so loudly that it reverberated against the tiled walls. Isaac kissed him once more, then washed the two of them off one last time before escorting Jack back to where they had placed their towels. They dried, and Jack simply followed after Isaac, throwing on a clean pair of clothing only when Isaac laughed and yanked the still damp shirt out of his hands. When Jack was fully dressed once more, Isaac stepped over and flicked Jack’s dog tags outside of his shirt. He left a soft kiss on the corner of Jack’s lips, and Jack sat on the bench for a moment. 

His emotional high was only broken after he belatedly realized he’d attributed his success in evaluations to Reyes. Isaac took a moment to respond, and Jack almost prayed that he’d just leave it alone. 

No such luck. “You’re always going on about him. Reyes this, Reyes that. Give it a rest, yeah?” Jack bit his lip. Isaac wasn’t speaking to him meanly, but Jack couldn’t help but feel a little defensive. 

“What is your problem with him exactly? I mean, you know he was the one to train me this whole time..” 

Isaac ignored his question. “It was funny seeing him there today. I swore he was avoiding you for the last couple days.” Jack felt his stomach sink. The happy little glow that he’d had was now completely erased and replaced with one of despair. 

“He was avoiding me? Why? Why would you even say that?” 

“Think about it, Jack.” His mind retraced every single interaction they’d had the past week. Nothing had seemed out of the usual. Reyes was his usual relaxed self, a little gruff but still nice to him. He couldn’t comprehend what he could have done to make Reyes dislike him enough to be excused from his position for two days, and even have Nassar coach him the last couple days before evals. It hurt to think about, and it hurt even more to be so utterly confused as to what he had done wrong. 

Weakly, he mumbled out, “He wasn’t…” Isaac snorted. 

“Do you seriously not get it?” Jack said nothing. “Lookin’ for a confirmation here, Jack.” At this he shook his head. 

“Does he hate me or somethin’? I just wanna know what I did, Isaac—” 

“Christ. He doesn’t hate you. He’s fucking in  _ love  _ with you!” 

It seemed like Isaac didn’t mean to blurt that fact out, as he immediately clamped up and launched himself to his feet. 

Jack sat there in stunned silence. The only thought coursing through his brain could be summed up as,  _ what the hell?  _ He got no answer as Isaac rushed out of the locker room, leaving him there to question what had just happened. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> happy 4th of july everyone!
> 
> new chapters are gonna be gabe's pov first, until another 2-parter chapter, then itll switch again and so on and so forth. let me know what u guys think so far! i love 2 hear from everyone!
> 
> as always u can find me on [tumblr](http://whillowed.tumblr.com/) and [twitter](https://twitter.com/maxalackin)!! ask me anything, send comments, or whatever u want! feel free 2 follow for updates or if u wanna be mutuals lol. for your listening pleasure iridian and i have a really good [spotify playlist](https://open.spotify.com/user/22ohf35fkcwkxrtd7vygohata/playlist/3cLNB4KHtJBdPUhe5gbEPC) so u should def check it out !! see u guys next update!


	8. Turn Off

Everyone that had been evaluated yesterday had passed. They were all moving onto Victory Forge—god help them—and Gabriel now has a couple weeks off to look forward to. He’d have to mentally prepare himself before the next batch of trainees would be brought in his gymnasium, but today was not a day he had to worry about it. He was happy for every single one of his recruits that had passed, but he couldn’t stop frowning at the three sheets of paper in front of him.

Despite the fact that Morrison had ended up being the one to come in first place for the testing, he hadn’t come in to pick up his specific evaluations. Taylor’s notes were filled with everything he had done right, every one of his hits landed and knock-downs were recorded and tallied. Smith had jotted down valid criticisms about namely  his reaction time and not getting wailed on. She was also supposed to be in charge of any revoked points, but Jack was one of the few who hadn’t needed to worry about that. Gabriel kept track of any special moves Jack completed, of which he had two. Each of the judges wrote a little paragraph or two about Jack’s sparring round, like they had everyone else. Gabriel had made sure to scribble that he was highly impressed with Jack’s progress, and that he was proud. He’d scratched out the last word, making sure it was illegible before writing that he was happy for him.

All of these notes were going to go unnoticed, their copies filed away in a report that would probably never be read. Nearly everyone else had come and retrieved their papers, either from Gabriel or the other two, but both Jack and Hong were missing from the large group that crowded them once it was all over. It wasn’t like Jack to miss out on the opportunity, and so Gabriel had kept those three sheets folded up in a pocket in case he came across Jack.

He didn’t.

Jack had ended up top of the combat training class, but he wouldn’t know it. He wasn’t one to showboat, but Gabriel knew it would have made him so excited, even if just for a short time. He sighed and leaned back in the rickety old chair in his dingy office. The space reminded him of all his gym teachers back in elementary through high school. White walls with metal grey furniture, and not a spot of color allowed. His arms fell to his side, and his head rolled back so that he stared at the ceiling. The lighting was abysmal, not a single window to be found in the entire locker room. Albeit it made sense that there wasn’t, but every time he was forced to spend long amounts of time in the office he could feel his soul ebbing away. His paperwork was almost done, but he had missed both breakfast (by choice) and lunch (not by choice). There were three more reports he’d have to surge through before he could even think about dinner, and with a look to his phone he groaned loudly. Half an hour left until he was supposed to meet everyone in the mess hall, almost forty five minutes left of this.

Gabriel set his jaw and hauled himself up, hunching back over both the bundles of paper and his tablet where he was storing all the info.

Twenty three minutes of furious typing later, two more reports were done. He cracked his knuckles, rolled his neck, and slammed the last one out in just under ten minutes. He put everything away quickly, locked his office, and rushed over to the mess hall. Normally they arrived there early enough that there was no rush in line, and they still had all the ‘fresh’ food out. Despite being a bit late, he was relieved to find that this was still the case.

Within moments, he had his tray and was bumping Rosita out of his normal place with his hip. Discreetly, he scanned the cafeteria for Jack, but no such luck. They weren’t due to leave for Victory Forge until the day after tomorrow, but the time they had before leaving on their three day retreat was spent doing chores. Cleaning boots, scrubbing the entirety of the barracks, polishing guns, so on. Washington had managed to slip away from his recruits however, as he was now ignoring Birdy elbowing him continuously.

It was nice to not have to worry about if he’d have to make adjustments to his lesson plans for the next day, or trying to get Jack to have a little more confidence in himself while simultaneously beating him senseless. The time he spent with Jack he hadn’t minded so much, though he wouldn’t care to admit it. _Morrison,_ he corrected himself. No use getting chummy now.

After dinner they continued on with their nightly rituals. Gabriel didn’t see Morrison—or anyone else really—in the rec room when he caught the news with Dabney. Rosita and Twofer went hard on some foosball for a while before they retired. Twofer won nearly all the games of twenty-one points that they played, inspiring Rosita to curse him out in as many inventive ways as she could each time he drilled the little ball into her goal to end the game. Dabney asked if Gabriel could braid her hair for the next day, and he obliged. She slid in front of him between his legs and pulled her knees to her chest as his fingers moved through her soft hair. He refused to think about how it was just about the same color as Jack’s.

The two of them parted ways for the night not long after, and though he hadn’t done anything physically taxing all day, Gabriel fell face-first into his bed and slept like the dead until the next morning.

He didn’t see Jack that day.

He also didn’t see Jack the next morning, though when he ate breakfast with Washington, the man reported that everyone in basic had already gone. The folded papers in Gabriel’s pants pocket felt stiff and one of the corners was digging into his skin through the fabric.

Paperwork done a whole day early, no chores to do, no lessons to instruct. Gabriel felt so incredibly bored. He’d get used to the routine soon enough until it was broken again, but the first inactive day was always the worst. Gabriel liked being a busy person, but Dabney had dragged him to the rec room so he could sit on the couch and lazily call out any fouls or outs in the _riveting_ ping-pong tournament going on.

To be fair, she hadn’t invited him to do only that, but that’s what was happening. He sighed and fell back against the cushions, legs slung over the armrest. Whenever he sided with one person’s accusation of whether or not the ball was out, or if it was a double bounce, no one bothered to turn around and question him. At one point he dozed off, abruptly awaking when Twofer yelled that the ball had obviously touched the table, and he’d won. Spitefully, Gabriel argued against him, which led to an argument that he didn’t care for.

Lunch came and went.

Dabney, Gabriel and two other people watched three shitty B-rated action movies in a row until it was time for dinner.

In the mess hall there were two men in the same colorless, ugly grey suits that the woman who had introduced them all to SEP had worn. Both had sunglasses on indoors, and they stuck out like sore thumbs. Both were stationed at each entrance to the large room, and Gabriel knew that they were there to make sure no one talked about what had been going on the past few days. It was a little nerve wracking to glance up at them every few minutes and find that neither of them had moved a single muscle since he last saw. He was sure everyone else noticed, and there was no point in commenting on it.

After they were done, Gabriel had already resigned himself to a boring night glued in front of the TV, until Rosita suggested that they go to the bar. Before he thought it out, Gabriel blurted yes. Washington, Dabney, and Nassar all agreed. Birdy was the one in charge of Victory Forge, so he wouldn’t be joining them. Richards was a rare sight at their dinner table, but he elected to sit out the excursion.

“Who’s gonna D-D?” was Rosita’s next question, and Nassar’s finger immediately flew to her nose. Following her movements, Gabriel and Washington did the same, and Rosita’s mouth fell open. “Come on! It was my idea to go!”

“You know the rule,” Washington responded.

Still, she looked crestfallen, and only then did Gabriel remember what had happened the last time he cut a little loose with alcohol. “If we take my car I’ll drive.”

She smiled. “Thanks, Gabrielito. No matter what anyone says about you, I knew you were alright.”

“What do they say about me?” She waved him off, and they all agreed to meet up in the rec room in twenty minutes. Gabriel wanted to change into sweatpants, and Nassar wanted to take a quick shower. Rosita was going to fix her makeup, Dabney had to straighten up her bunk for inspection, and Washington ‘just needed a few.’

As agreed, they all met in the designated spot. When Gabriel scratched at his head, he felt more hair on him than should be, and grimaced at the thought of another Army-regulated buzz cut. He’d left Jack’s evaluation in his room, despite debating with himself whether or not he should bring it. In the end he knew that there was no possible way that he’d see him that night, or at all for the next couple days. So tucked in his nightstand it was, and would hopefully be forgotten until later. Instead, his car keys replaced their spot in his right pocket, jingling noisily as he paraded out with his friends out to the parking lot.

Nassar’s hair was down, which was also technically against regulation. But in about five minutes they’d be out of where anyone would give a shit. She, Dabney and Rosita chattered to each other as they walked, and Washington fell in step with Gabriel. The larger man was quiet for a moment before nudging him. “You doing okay lately?”

Gabriel coughed minutely. “Uh, yeah. Why wouldn’t I be?”

Washington shrugged, and that was the end of that conversation.

“Yo, Jeziah.” He grimaced and turned his head to look at her. Nassar apologized and took a couple hops to catch up. “Rematch in darts?”

“Hell yeah,” he grinned, and she high-fived him before falling back again. Gabriel snorted, and they reached the car not long after.

Traffic was a little worse than expected for seven pm on a tuesday, but not unbearable. Gabriel would admit to getting a little antsy when confronted with awful drivers, but it was nothing compared to Dabney’s terrifying roadrage.

A normally short drive was nearly half an hour, but remarkably no one complained as they piled out of the car and headed into the bar and grill. He suddenly felt a little nervous, rubbing his thumb against the ridges of his house key that he hadn’t used in forever. But when Barbs loudly cooed at his group, and came out from behind the counter to give each of them a warm hug and a kiss on the cheek, he knew that she didn’t judge him for his last visit.

“Gabriel told me that you guys wouldn’t be here for another while!”

Four sets of eyes turned to him, and he began to stammer out a reply before Barbs interjected with a simple, “Texting, kids. Fun invention to keep in touch with your old pals who don’t work with you.” She winked at Gabriel and he mouthed a quick _thank you_ as she directed them to their usual booth. They were large enough that they could comfortably seat three on each side of the table, but with only Gabriel and Nassar on their bench, it was plenty roomy. “Drinks, everyone?”

Barbara didn’t need a notepad to know each of their starting beverages, and she didn’t bat an eye when Gabriel only ordered a Coke. They moved onto appetizers, and Washington, Dabney and Nassar agreed to share cheesy fries while Gabriel and Rosita all but demanded a disgusting amount of nachos be added to the mix. Barbs laughed and moved away to collect their things, and immediately Rosita became engrossed in the football game on. She would mumble a reply whenever the conversation around her piqued her interest for a second, but for the most part it was the other two women and Reyes talking. Drinks and food were brought out, and Barbs shoved Gabriel into the corner and Rosite into his side so she could sit with them.

The rest of the night was the most fun Gabriel had had in so very long. Nassar coaxed him into having a couple beers, knowing his tolerance and how long they’d be there better than he did. As promised, she and Washington began a round of darts, and Rosita and Dabney went off to fiddle with the ancient jukebox and play some pool. Gabriel was left to sit at the bar with its tender, and he was nursing his second drink when he remembered that he hadn’t remembered Jack all night. The blonde was shoved from his mind on purpose, but when he was brought to the forefront of Gabriel’s mind once again, he groaned and slumped forward.

In front of him, Barbara finished polishing a glass and chuckled. “What’s got you this time? That boy again?” At his glare, she knew the answer. “He still with that Isaac fella?”

“Who says ‘fella’ anymore?”

“Gabriel.”

“Yeah, yeah. But, um. Yes he is.” She hummed. “He, uh.” He tried to find a way to phrase this without giving away that Jack was still only a recruit. “I was helping him out the past couple weeks, training him for this competition. He ended up coming in first, but I haven’t seen him in a few days and I…” He trailed off. “I don’t know. I guess I’m just trying to figure out a way to show him—in a friendly way” he emphasized, pointing at her. “—That I’m...Proud or whatever.” Barbs picked up a new glass and began scrubbing at it.

“Get him a gift.” He looked up at her, incredulous. She flicked her eyes to him and raised an eyebrow. “What?”

“I was just thinking, you know…” He trailed off, realizing that even _he_ didn’t know. He finished with a shrug. “It just seems so personal.”

She laughed at him. “I’m not saying get him a pair of lingerie, Gabe. Just a little thing.” He sucked in one cheek.

“Like what?”

“Well we’re in Seattle, nice vacation spot. Little gift shops are in every gas station around here, I’m sure there’s something simple.” Gabriel sighed, thinking of the out-of-place cowboy hats and the magnets that only had the children’s museum logo on them. Still, the idea was better than anything he had come up with. Which was precisely nothing.

“Okay,” he said slowly, then repeated it at a normal pace. “Alright. That’s not a bad idea. It’s small enough that he won’t think anything of it, but it’s still something to say ‘good job.’ Barbs, you’re a genius.”

Without missing a beat she responded, “Oh honey I’m a aware,” all the while wiping at her glass. They talked for a few more minutes, then Gabriel ordered another plate of nachos and brought them back.

Nassar crinkled her nose at the cheesy tortilla chips when she saw them. “I don’t get how you can eat them. They get so soggy.”

Gabriel scooped some more cheese onto the little chip, and pointed the corner at her. “Not everyone eats as slow as a three year old.” He bit down on it after that, a little bit of the goo catching in his mustache. He swiped at it and Dabney collected a few chips and dunked one delicately. Rosita and Washington were still away from the table, Rosita in the bathroom as he was informed, and Washington cleaning up the mess in the game area. As if anyone in a bar cared about tidiness. The older man made it back before their other companion, sliding in next to Gabriel. He offered the basket of food towards him, but Washington only shook his head.

Soon enough Rosita joined them, though a little slower and a little less coordinated than she usually was. Safe enough to talk by herself, but probably for the best if she switched to water for a little while.

There was another few games on TV, and the five of them distracted themselves with them for a time before Rosita piped up again.

“So how come all of you guys all went off for like a day at a time? Was there some meeting I missed?” The other four of them exchanged looks, none of them admitting the truth. It wasn’t a question that was asked drunkenly and one she wouldn’t remember the answer later. Clearly it was something she had been meaning to ask the group, and Gabriel couldn’t hide the tiniest bit of shock and knot in his stomach he felt at the fact that Rosita wasn’t involved in the process. At least not yet. And he hadn’t even heard of Nassar getting interviewed. After a long, awkward pause, she spoke up again. “Hey, come on guys. What’d I miss?”

Even if the four of them hadn’t been sworn to secrecy on those little contracts, none of them would feel comfortable sharing it. It wasn’t like them at all, not telling anyone anything. Gabriel had known Dabney and Washington were involved purely by chance, and he assumed the same went for him.

Smoothly, Nassar interjected. “I’m sure you’re going to find out soon, yeah? It wasn’t a big deal or anything.” She smiled reassuringly, and Gabriel found it in himself to nod.

Truth was, none of them knew how long the woman would be around. If she’d already finished interviewing everyone then…

“Ugh, fine.” And like that, the topic was dropped. Rosita switched gears quickly, and Gabriel nodded along with whatever was going on. Barbs brought him a coffee, and as soon as they began to sober up some more, strides were made back to the car.

Luckily enough for Gabe, he really did need to get some gas. When they left the main base, he’d been going on about fifty miles until empty and now they were down to twenty and almost back. So when he wanted to go into the station by himself, no one complained. He grabbed a pack of powdered donuts for Nassar and a Sprite for Dabney as per their requests. True to Barbara’s word, there was an aisle of gimmicky crap for tourists. It wasn’t going to be the most glamorous gift ever, but it at the very least was going to be picked out with care.

There were little plastic badges that had the word _SHERIFF_ engraved in them, colored with a cheap silver paint. Pass.

Next up were the same refrigerator magnets that Gabriel had been thinking of earlier, only this time they featured the city’s name as well as the three primary colors and low-resolution pictures of some sites that weren’t even in the hundred mile radius. Pass.

T-shirts that boldly stated how much the wearer loved Seattle, mugs, hand towels, snowglobes. All that he saw was either useless or just stupid. Until he finally approached the keychains.

They weren’t anything special, far from it. They were metal though and wouldn’t break as easily as most of the things he came across. Some of them had decent patterns too. The rack was a turnstile, so there were options. He hadn’t realized it until he picked one up, but at the bottom of each keychain was a name. Gabriel frowned, trying to think if Jack was a popular enough name that there would be at least one with it on there. He supposed _Jackson_ would do in a pinch, but he had no idea if Jack hated the longer version of his name or not.

He chewed his lip for a few moments while turning the rack to find the J section. His heart skipped when there was not a single J, but he realized that K came after the letter, and turned the clinking knick-knacks back just a little. Infuriatingly, they weren’t in alphabetical order, and he had to truly search for the blonde’s name. He almost gave up and was about to go get a mug before he saw one single, solitary keychain with the Space Needle and the name _Jack_ at the bottom.

Gabriel had to stop himself from hollering in the near-empty gas station, and he carried the tiny present like a trophy over to the tired looking cashier. He was rung out, and nearly stepped out of the store before hurrying back over and slapping a twenty on the counter, asking for it to be put on pump three. The cashier waved him off, and he shoved the keychain in his pocket before returning to the car to throw the snacks at his friends and fill up his vehicle.

It didn’t take long, though he was nervous for a couple minutes that somehow one of them would see the gift in his pants that couldn’t be for anyone but Morrison. He hummed, frowning at how he had phrased that thought, then deciding to ignore that the idea had crossed his mind.

Washington had his head pressed to the window, probably trying to ease an already setting headache. Gabriel felt for him, deciding to turn down the music and not speak for the rest of the trip home.

Once there he herded everyone inside, sitting them down on the couches and chairs in the rec room as he rushed about getting water, blankets, pillows, and the remote for everyone. By the time he returned with the final water bottle for Rosita, Dabney and Nassar were curled up with each other, each dozing lightly. Washington had the TV on mute with subtitles, and Rosita sat in one of the singles chairs, one leg swung over the back of it, the other extended so that her foot was flat on the floor. She groaned mildly, and Gabriel tossed the water over to her. He plopped down in his own chair for a time while they all just relaxed together.

Going out was fun, but in Gabriel’s opinion it was just as nice to simply stay in and bask in everyone’s company. Even if one of them was whining every few minutes, one of them was snoring quietly, and one of them was staring at the monitor in front of them as if they were dead.

Eventually Gabriel himself rested his head against the back of his chair and shut his eyes. When he opened them again, he had to blink blearily as Dabney gently shook his shoulder.

He stood up, and followed the lot of them back to where their rooms were.

Dabney and Nassar entered their rooms first, then Rosita all but collapsed into hers. Gabriel waved to Washington as he passed by all the doors, his multiplex of bunk beds residing at the end of the hallway, then to the right. Washington held up one hand briefly before letting it flop. Gabriel chuckled and entered his room, shucked off his clothing, and rolled into bed.

Before he knew it, his alarm for the day was blaring. When he finally managed to look at it, he revealed that it was two snooze times after when he had set it.

Oh well.

It was slow-going trying to get up and ready. He didn’t have a headache, but staying up until four o’clock in the morning, and having to get up before nine sure wasn’t fun. Still, he managed, which was better than he could say for the two missing people at the breakfast table. After he, Washington, Dabney and Richards were done, Gabriel went back to his room for a nap.

The next two days were long and tedious. Having nothing to do was beginning to grate on his nerves.

Once the recruits returned from Victory Forge, he still didn’t see Jack.

Graduation day was in two days, and still he caught no wind as to Morrison’s whereabouts. He’d need to be there for it, as one of the drill instructors that had ‘seen them on their journey,’ as the commanding officer liked to say. As long as Jack had passed VF, then he was all set to move forward.

Ever present in the back of his mind though was the nagging feeling like Jack was avoiding him.

Gabriel after his second day of sloth decided to spend at least two hours in the weight room. One hour doing cardio, one hour doing muscle training. He invited anyone he could get his hands on, but with the way he was pushing himself, hardly anyone could keep up. Dabney and Washington did a good job, bless them. But everyone else except Twofer was left in the dust. And even then the other man was only holding on by a thread and his desire to do better than everyone.

Finally graduation day arrived. It was no use for trying to watch out for any of the recruits. They were all too busy tidying up their uniforms, and packing their bunks to be moved to a different part of the barracks after the ceremonies were over. Gabriel himself only took a shower, and dressed in his gear, attaching the one medal he’d been given to his chest. It was standard for drill sergeants to have the one at the very least, but he was looking forward to becoming more decorated in the future. He tucked away the idle fantasies as he laced up his boots, bemoaning the fact that his hair was at the awkward length where it wasn’t quite enough to curl, but too long to not be shooed away to a barber at the nearest opportunity.

Fortunately he was required to wear the stupid hat as apart of his outfit while the ceremony was going on, and after he could simply sneak off and not have to worry about it.

When he finally made his way to the makeshift stage that they still hadn’t changed after all these years, he found nearly everyone else had arrived before him. He still wasn’t technically late, but he knew he was pushing it. Still, he was glad that a couple more drill instructors showed up after him otherwise he would have felt bad.

Though they had each done this several times at the minimum (Gabriel himself was the newest instructor they had taken on) and knew what they were doing, the commanding officer still walked them slowly through it. He didn’t appreciate the tone in her voice that made it sound like she thought they were all idiots, but he wasn’t one to complain.

Soon after the little rehearsals were completed, the recruits began pouring in. Though Gabriel supposed in a couple hours each of them would be full-fledged soldiers. Were he a more sentimental type it would bring a tear to his eye.

Then the waiting game began. Family and friends of each of the trainees were up in the bleachers. Some eagerly called out to whoever they were there for, some flashed cameras. And if Gabriel squinted he could make out a few disgruntled teenagers slumped in their stadium seats.

Long, tedious minutes stretched into half an hour even after everyone was settled before they began. Almost all of the soon to be graduates were fidgeting where they stood, though they were hardly allowed to move out of their positions. They were placed a ways off so that they could demonstrate their excellent walking skills all the way up to the podium. Gabriel would have loved to cock one of his hips, but Army regulation stated that he remain _right_ as he was. Feet shoulder-width apart, arms crossed behind his back.

After what felt like a century the commanding officer began her excruciatingly long speech that was only _supposed_ to be two minutes on, but she managed to stretch it out to seven.

The recruits began their walk back over, and the crowd behind him erupted.

Each group aligned with their drill instructor that had roomed with them, and though Gabriel didn’t know the exact number there looked to be a few hundred recruits today.

At his cue, Gabriel and all the other sergeants turned back to face the crowd and salute to everyone that had gathered. After another few minutes of speeches and the national anthem, they were allowed to relax their arms and the flag twirling began.

It was nice outside that day. The weather had begun to cool without becoming freezing quite yet. The sun was high overhead, but it was cloudy enough that no one had to shield their eyes from it.

More speeches and more marching, then finally after about forty five minutes they were done. When they were allowed, the families flooded out from the bleachers and swarmed each of the recruits. It took some time, and Gabriel was required to stand there for all of it, but it began to clear out for family day. The newly appointed Privates were allowed within fifty miles of base, though none of them were allowed to drive themselves.

Idly Gabriel waited, addressing those who spoke to him kindly and patiently, and saluted those who offered him one. He congratulated and hugged and shook hands until all but a few families were off the field. He looked around himself, and spotted Jack alone.

He frowned.

“Where are your parents?”

Jack looked up to see Gabriel walking towards him, and once he realized the question was directed at him, he smiled sadly. “They couldn’t make it. Seattle’s a long way from Indiana. S’ alright though, it’s nice seein’ everyone else with their families.”

Jack was unable to disguise the tiny quiver in his voice and the wetness to his eyes betrayed his true feelings. Gabriel stood awkwardly for a moment, not knowing how to comfort him.

It wasn’t as though he could empathize. At least one of his elder family members had always made it to any event he’d participated in, no matter how far or the activity. Both his parents and his grandmother had flown in from Los Angeles to see him and cheer him on. Knowing that no one had come to see Jack graduate, no one was there to support him or to take pictures on one of the biggest days of his life…

“That fucking sucks, Morrison,” he settled on saying, feeling lame for doing so.

The younger man coughed out a laugh, and Gabriel turned his head so he could pretend he didn’t see Jack swipe at one of his eyes.

“You wanna come sit with me for a couple minutes? We’re wrapping up here and I don’t think anyone will care.” Jack nodded and the two of them found a place on the first row of seats. Gabriel didn’t know any of Jack’s family, but he had to force down his anger at the thought of them abandoning him. He took off his stiff hat, ran his head over his head, and placed the cap back on. Beside him Jack rubbed incessantly at the back of his neck, a nervous tick. Neither of them said anything for a couple moments, and Gabriel cleared his throat eventually. “I, uh.” Jack sniffed, and brushed the eye he hadn’t touched earlier.

“Sorry, sorry. It’s stupid. I’m really trying not to—”

“Morrison.”

“It’s just—I wanted to see my parents so bad. And I _knew_ they weren’t goin’ to be able to come. But my sisters said they might make it and—and then they had to cancel and—” The little tremors in his voice were almost unbearable. Even if it hadn’t been Jack that he was talking to, Gabriel’s heart would have broken for anyone whose family just _hadn’t shown up._

“Jack.”

“—I get it I’m not mad at them or anything but they _promised_ they’d be here—”

“Jackie,” Gabriel finally said soothingly and Jack sucked in a large breath. He swallowed past the lump in his throat at the look of sheer misery on Jack’s face. “It’s okay, I get it. I can’t even imagine what this is like for you, and I’m so sorry no one showed up. I’m here for you though, if you. Uh, if you need me.” His lips quirked up in what he hoped was a smile and Jack broke out into a watery grin.

Gabriel wanted to kiss him. Fuck, he wanted to. But before he could do anything stupid, he reached in his pocket and clasped his hand around the little gift. “I got you something. Nothing special or anything but just a little present for being first in the combat training evaluations.

The blonde’s eyes widened. “Wait, really? I came in first?” Gabriel nodded and pulled out the keychain.

“It’s nothing special but...you know.” He handed it off to the recipient, and Jack gasped softly.

“I, I don’t know what to say. I mean, thank you for starters. Thank you!” He emphasized and bounced a little in his seat. “I really came in first? Like out of everyone?” Gabriel chuckled and nodded before his mouth mirrored the younger man’s as Jack frowned. “I don’t have any keys though,” he admitted and Gabriel stared blankly.

 _Of fucking course, moron,_ he chided himself. _Get him the one thing he can’t use. Should’ve gone with the mug or the snowglobe or—_

“Gabriel—er—Reyes, sir.” Gabriel blinked back to look at him, rewarded with the small smile and grateful look in Jack’s eyes. “I really like it. And I’ll get keys, or something. Thank you, really.”

His heart fluttered, and he mentally cursed himself for this. He opened his mouth to ask Jack if he wanted to hang out with his friends that day, but before he could form the words he heard Jack’s name being shouted from behind them.

When he turned around, he wasn’t the least bit surprised to find out it was Isaac that was jogging towards them. He kept the scowl he wanted to make off himself, though Isaac couldn’t say the same for at least a couple seconds. When he turned his gaze to look at Jack, his expression turned soft and happy. It made Gabriel a little sick.

“I asked my parents if you could come with us for today. They’re excited to meet you, and so is my brother. That is, if you’re not busy.” Gabriel knew that last part was a jab at his presence, but Jack didn’t seem to catch on.

“Jesus, you didn’t need to ask ‘em. I’d be okay on my own, I don’t wanna impose on your family day.”

Even as Jack spoke, Isaac was shaking his head. “Alright, sorry. Let me rephrase. You’re coming with us if I have to drag you.” Gabriel was going to protest on Jack’s behalf, but he heard the other man giggle. So for the second time he kept his mouth shut.

“Okay, you convinced me.” He stood up and Isaac pulled him towards his own body, kissing him on the cheek and releasing with a _pop_. Jack laughed again and looked back at his former drill instructor one last time. “Thanks for everything, Reyes, sir. See you around!” Gabriel gave a pathetic little wave as he turned back with Isaac, and the two of them departed.

“Yeah,” Gabriel muttered. “See you around.”

 

\------------------------------------------

 

_(Several days before)_

 

They were woken up before—as Cortez called it—the ass crack of dawn. It took a few minutes for Jack to push himself up off the mattress into a sitting position. Even then it had taken one friend pulling at him and Isaac repeating “Get up get up get up get up,” until he did so.

Washington was thankfully merciful to the fact that it was before four in the morning. Jack and the rest of his compatriots made their way through their morning routines, and before he knew it his gear was settled on his back and they were marching to the busses that would take them to Victory Forge.

Unlike how it had been throughout the rest of basic, all three sectors of recruits would join together and complete the trials that lie before them.

Like nearly everything they had gone through so far, few details were disclosed about the coming days. Whatever it was, seventy two hours from now it would be over.

Jack repeated that to himself whenever he grew nervous. Isaac sat next to him on the bus. He tried to keep him occupied by talking, but the lack of sleep combined with with the nausea-inducing feelings of anxiety and motion sickness didn’t leave Jack much of a conversationalist. Isaac craned his head into the aisle to make sure none of their superiors were watching, and he told Jack to rest his head on Isaac’s shoulder and sleep. Jack tried to protest, but was cut off by his own exhausted yawn.

“Just for a few minutes,” he warned.

“Yeah, yeah. I’ll wake you up, don’t worry,” Isaac told him. Jack gave in and waited for Isaac to snake an arm around him before he slumped against the other man. At first the bumps in the road still made him queasy, but Isaac’s gentle breathing and the way his thumb rubbed against Jack’s arm lulled him to sleep.

He didn’t wake again until he felt the bus pull to a stop and he rubbed his face and brought himself upright. Isaac relinquished his hold on him. He was a little sad to be leaving his boyfriend’s comforting heat.

“C’mon, we’re gettin’ off.” Jack ignored him for a moment and slumped against the side of the bus, immediately regretting it due to the freezing wall.

“Shit,” he mumbled and removed himself from it. He sighed and stood up, slowly maneuvering himself until he was centered in the middle of the vehicle, waiting his turn with the rest of them to exit from it. He brushed his hair with his fingers and yawned once more. Isaac handed him his gear and Jack thanked him. “How long was I asleep for?”

“About an hour.”

“An hour? I asked you to wake me up after a few minutes!” He pouted, and Isaac turned back to him and laughed.

“You just looked so cute, I didn’t wanna wake you.” He glanced behind him quickly, and Jack cast his gaze down. Isaac pecks him on the lips swiftly, earning him a slight twitch of Jack’s lips. His act of grumpiness didn’t last long as they were out moving now. They took little half-steps until they descended down the stairs, and when Jack hopped off the last step, he was met with the muted crunch of frozen grass.

Jack looked down at his feet and grimaced. It was still incredibly early in the day, a look at the little clock on his pack revealed that it was just past six o’ clock. He sighed and stepped forward as soon as he was able to, allowing the person behind him to step off.

Soon enough their bus was emptied, and the two busses that were behind them followed suit.

There were a few drill sergeants talking to each other until one of them motioned at the gathered students. They finished their conversation abruptly and stood tall.

Despite the probable urgency in what they were talking about, Jack found his attention drifting in and out so that he could only catch every few sentences. He’d have to ask someone to fill him in later, which he hated. But there was nothing that could be done for it considering how he nearly fell asleep while standing up...Three times. Not his proudest moment.

They were lead to cabins where all their sleeping arrangements were already made up. Each recruit got one bedroll, one pillow, a tiny stick of deodorant, a miniature toothbrush with an equally child sized tube of toothpaste, and a bar of soap with the normal dimensions. All of this was perfectly wrapped in a pre-sealed bag.

A few people tried to drop off their bags, but they were quickly barked at by the drill instructors around them.

Even though Jack had only let one shoulder strap slip off a few inches, he still made sure to shrug it back into place as they were lead outside into the crisp fall air once again. He shivered immediately.

Indiana, whereas it did get cold, never saw the disturbingly low temperatures that Seattle was plagued with every winter. He just prayed that this was the coldest that it got while they were still in the decaying log buildings of Victory Forge.

They were all brought to a straight stone wall that rose higher than Jack could crane his neck backwards with his large pack still resting behind him. Still, he gulped. A chancery look around him revealed that Isaac was towards the back of the group, nodding as soon as they made eye contact. Jack turned back around and tries his best to concentrate on the instructions that they were being given.

They were put into teams by name, and Jack was excited that he was put with Cortez for the exercise they were doing.

Right after they were partnered though, he grew less and less enthusiastic about what they’d be doing.

The wall that he had looked at and been terrified of moments before?

Only by using what they were given, they were supposed to make it up and over it, with their heavy packs still strapped to them. The giant cement block didn’t stretch very far, but it was broken up into segments, each maybe twenty feet long. All in all the thing might’ve been a couple thousand feet long. Jack was no genius, but it didn’t take a genius to figure out that the segments of it were for each group assigned to it.

The thing had no hand or foot holds, no holes in it that they could stick climbing equipment, and aside from the regular wear-and-tear of the elements, was completely smooth. There was nothing that indicated how they would be able to climb it at all. Jack hadn’t exactly done much research before enlisting about Victory Forge. He knew what it was in theory, but none of the online articles he had read about Basic mentioned much of what they would be doing.

Few instructions were given about how to conquer it. They were given a few moments to shuffle into their groups, then one drill instructor went around and gave each a length of rope. Jack eyed it as it was given to the one girl in his group that no one really ever got along with. She was very much dead set on just getting Basic out of the way and officially joining the Army, never stopping to make friends. He respected it.

Yet when they were told that everyone who was handed rope was going to be the honorary leader of their mock platoons, Jack suddenly wasn’t so confident in her. One of his group mates whispered to another after the announcement was revealed, and he cut them a look. One of them rolled their eyes, but the other had the decency to look ashamed.

After that, they were assigned a part of the 15-foot wall. The moment everyone stood in front of their block was when the other drill instructor—Birdy he was introduced as—blew a sharp whistle.

They had all day to try and get over this, so time wasn’t a huge issue.

What was however was the fact that the seven of them all sood in their circle with precisely zero ideas of how to conquer this obstacle. They had ten feet in front of the wall they couldn’t cross unless they were elevated at least four feet above the ground—that was the contamination zone.

“Throw the rope over it and I can hold onto it from the other side—”

“No, we can’t go around the wall. We have to go over it.”

“Yeah, plus we can't like walk up to the wall.”

“Okay maybe we can boost someone up and onto it, then have them wait up there for the gear and everyone else?”

“How are we going to throw someone fifteen feet in the air from ten feet away. That’s like twenty five feet throwing someone.”

“That’s now how math works.”

“Oh okay, sorry. I wasn’t aware my high school education was the issue here. Please, by all means bust out the Newton’s theorem and calculate it.”

“It’s pythagorean theorem, genius.”

Jack let a lazy smile cross his mouth. “Hey, come on. Being asses isn’t going to help us get over this,” he jerked his thumb back at the white block. They didn’t argue with him about that at least, but they were back to having no ideas.

Cortez hadn’t been much involved in the arguments until she said, rather simply, “Trees.”

Six other pairs of eyes turned to her. “What about ‘em?”

The leader of their little group seemed to catch on immediately. She pointed at the long trunks that lie between each man-made segment. “Those are out of the range, easy to climb, _and,”_ she paused and looked back at them. “They’re high enough that we can just hop onto the wall and back down again.”

“Bingo,” Cortez said, already beginning to shrug off her pack.

Judging by the murmurs amongst the group, They were alright with the plan they had. Some of the other groups were milling about, but at the very least none of them had anyone up the wall yet. As a couple of his partners discussed some of the details of the plan, Jack took a few steps back to look around.

Two sections down, there was Isaac. He was standing with his arms crossed, and everything about his demeanor said he was annoyed. Jack wasn’t sure if he was allowed to call out to him or not, but it wasn’t necessary as Isaac turned and saw Jack. He waved, and Jack did the same before returning to those he was with.

“You get any of that, Morrison?”

He felt his face heat up a little as he shook his head.

Someone groaned and Jack muttered an apology before Cortez stepped in. “Alright, it’s fine. Just, uh. Okay so Candy’s going up first, then Melody’s going up halfway, and we’re handing out shit up to her, she passes it to Candy, Candy throws it on the top. Then the rest of us climb. Got it?” Jack nodded. “Great. Then let’s go.”

In theory, the plan was fine.

In action however, it was a great deal more difficult. For one, Candy had some issues getting up. Around the base there wasn’t much by means of leverage to lift oneself, meaning you had to run and hug the dream and hope for the best. After a few tries Candy finally made it up to the first branch. After that it was a little easier. At six and a half feet tall though and three hundred pounds of muscle, she was the biggest of them. So the way the wood cracked a little underneath her weight was concerning, but not so much so that the rest of them were deterred.

An hour later she was about twenty feet in the air. The group would need to cross over to the tree right next to it to be able to reach the wall themselves (safely at least), but as it were she could simply toss the packs onto it easily. She positioned herself so that she could reach down and grab whatever she needed to without falling.

Step one complete. It had only taken about an hour for them to stand around and squabble and for her to climb, so at least they were making good enough time.

However, as soon as Melody started the ascent with one bag on her shoulders, it became a lot more difficult. For one, she was a lot smaller than the other woman. She couldn’t wrap her arms around the tree as much as Candy had, and her awkward little shimmies did little to help her climb. After a few tries when she insisted that she could do it herself, Jack kindly offered to boost her, and she denied him. After the third time of her falling on her ass, she finally accepted the help.

Melody put one foot in Jack’s waiting hands, one hand steadying herself on his shoulder.  After confirmation that he was ready, he abruptly stood and launched her the best he could. She was scrawny and she flew. There was a large branch a few inches above where Jack’s head ended and she clutched onto it for dear life. After some scrambling, she managed to get herself onto it.

They had wasted another twenty minutes getting that figured out, and after another twenty she was in position checkpoint between the forest floor and Candy. She stood on one of the branches, and her height combined with Candy’s long arms made it possible for her to haul the bag up and rest it on the wall’s top.

One of the men in their group grimaced. “I don’t think we can throw these packs up that far.”

Another of them spoke. “It’s only ten feet between us and her, man.”

“Yeah, but my arms aren’t four feet long.”

The one who had first spoken kicked at the grass. “Fair enough.”

“Get me on that branch then. You can reach me, I can reach Melody.” Their ‘leader’ told them. She looked over at Jack and nodded at him. “You okay with lifting me?” He smiled at her, and her face remained blank.

“Sure am.”

She bobbed her head, pleased. She took the same position that Melody had, and it took a bit more effort to stand with her, but she was at least able to grab onto the tree before the smaller woman could. She stood, wobbled, then righted herself.

With that out of the way, bags were passed to her, and in turn she led them to their destination. By the time all the luggage was on top of the wall, it was approaching noon. They still had plenty of time. Another look around their part of the block though revealed that there was one group that had already had two people standing on top of the cement, waiting for the rest of their group. Jack had no idea how they did it, but now wasn’t the time to worry about them.

Melody managed to make it up to where Candy was, and several of them gasped when she pitched back, but Candy grabbed her by the jacket and hauled her back towards the trunk. Cortez screeched out for her to be careful, and the only response was a high-pitched terrified laugh.

DeMarco called up to her then, asking how wide the top was. She reported that it was about five feet across, and he nodded.

After Melody was up, Abdi called out, “I’ll stay here so Morrison doesn’t have to boost everyone.” They agreed, and one after another they made it onto some part of the tree. Some of the group members had made it onto the top of the wall already, but Cortez and DeMarco were still climbing with Jack right behind. Abdi trailed right after.

As he looked up at the living mass of plant above him and the way the sun finally began to filter through the clouds. He was thrown back into his past, a reminder of his tiny calloused palms and scraped knees from climbing trees. The way he and his sisters would come back home with twigs and leaves in their hair. Their father would bathe and bandage them, pressing little kisses to each of their cuts.

He shook the memory out of his head and concentrated on just making it _up._

Admittedly it was so much harder to move upwards along the bark than it had when he was a child. Back then their tinier bodies could navigate through the tightly clumped branches easier. As children they were never lugged down with bulletproof vests, rifles, and clunky boots.

Everyone but the last two had finally made it to the top and over while Jack and Abdi remained about halfway through the process. After another few feet up, Jack heard a small cry behind him. He hugged the tree and looked down.

Abdi had her leg caught between a forked branch, and each time she tried to pull it out the wood she was half standing on creaked treacherously.

She let out a moan from fear and Jack sat down, trying to make his way towards her. It took a couple minutes, but he made it to her level once again. She was breathing heavily, eyes squeezed shut. Jack whispered, “Hey.” She startled, and he reached out to grab her just in case she flailed back. She didn’t, but her eyebrows were drawn close together as she panted.

“H-hey.”

Jack didn’t dare settle his weight on the same branch she was on, instead staying perched on the one closest to her. “Are you hurt?”

“No. Jesus just—” she cut herself off and let her head thunk against the trunk. When she spoke it was towards the tree. “Please help me. I don’t know if I can get out of this.”

“You’re going to be okay,” he assured her, reaching out to the branch. “Okay. Um...Give me a second.” Her leg was really wedged in there. He patted her on the shoulder and she looked at him again. “Grab onto that branch with one hand, and then that one with the other.” He pointed to each one that he was referring to, making sure her gaze followed his finger. She nodded. “And then…” He paused, looking around them. There wasn’t another branch she could easily sit on, but there was a divot in the tree large enough that she could get the toe of her boot into. “There. Foot in there.” She did as he said and he exhaled, mulling this over. He could try and pull her out, but that would risk both of their balances. There was no way that he could get under her to push up on her foot. So instead he just told her to hold on tight and reached down.

The fork reconnected almost right after the space her leg occupied, and it was barely enough for him to wiggle his fingers into. He pulled, but the branch wouldn’t give. Their group members began to call down to them, and Jack yelled back up that he needed a minute.

“Let me know if it hurts, okay?”

“I’m scared of heights, Morrison.” Her eyes were clamped shut and she was biting her lip so hard that Jack was afraid it would bleed soon.

Jack squeezed her knee reassuringly. “Look at me.” When she didn’t, he repeated the order. She looked up at him and he tried to fill his eyes with as much sincerity as he could. “It’s okay. I’m not gonna let anything happen to you, alright? I promise.” She gulped as he drove his hands into the branch and _pulled_ as hard as he could.

She wiggled her leg out an inch before he had to let the branch fall back to its original place. He took in a sharp breath and held it before doing it again. And again. On the fourth time her heel made it out. He stood back up and offered his arm, clutching a branch above him tightly. “Hold onto me, and I’ll yank you out.” She grabbed him with both hands, though she still kept her foot where he had told her. “Let’s go.” He pulled himself up, doing his best to drag her with him. She flew closer to him, and with her shout he knew that she was out.

He helped her climb above him and kept an eye on her the whole way up. They reached everyone else, and she explained what happened. Her hands were pretty cut up, apparently she had fallen into the gap in the branch and tried to reach for anything to break her fall.

By the time they made it to the top of the wall both of them were sucking in air as desperately as they could. Jack received a few pats on the back for what he had done to help her, but he bashfully shook the compliments off. He needed a little while to just sit and rest. They allowed him that, and they discussed a plan on how to get down.

Jack had no input, but at the very least Abdi was more willing to engage. In the end they decided to tie knots every few feet in the rope, and tie the end to the tree they had climbed. Each person would take their own pack for the descent. It was by far the simplest part of their journey today. They made it down with no problem, save for a few rope burns.

When the last member’s feet hit the ground, a drill instructor was waiting for them.

“Good work, everyone. You’re the third group to make it on the other side, so fantastic on your end. It wasn’t perfect, but your strategy was solid enough. What are some things that you would change if you have to do it again?”

There was no reason for Jack to contribute to any of this. He hadn’t been the one to help with any of the planning, and he didn’t do much but follow instructions. So when he was pushed forward lightly and praised by the six others, he was surprised. He tried to protest when they told Birdy everything he had done, but when Cortez slapped her hand over his mouth he gave up.

Birdy scribbled things onto his tablet and looked right at Morrison when he was done. “You get my recommendation for Soldier of the Day.” Jack shook his head while Birdy bobbed his. “Oh yes. You did well today. All of you did, but not leaving her behind, making sure she went before you, helping others onto the tree before you? Shows true merit, Morrison. Congratulations aren’t in order quite yet, but when we group for dinner I imagine they will be.” Jack was unable to stop the blush that rose to his cheeks. “Next time guys, keep in mind that if you ask for help we’ll give it to you. It is the first day after all.”  

A few of them called out _what_ in disbelief, and Cortez stalked off to the side and screamed with her mouth closed. Jack chuckled, and they were lead to an obstacle course where the two groups that finished before them were waiting.

“Take a load off. We’re calling this quits at four, then break for late lunch and we move onto this bad boy.” He gestured to the barbed wire, mud, and other horrors that awaited them.

Some of them pulled the granola bars they were given out of their bags, and Jack did the same. He hadn’t noticed how hungry he was until he smelled the peanut butter holding together the snack.

He plopped himself down on the grass, thankful that the sun had warmed it enough that the morning dew was gone and the ground was solid. He ate slowly, concentrating on peeling the wrapper back perfectly. It didn’t work, it never did. But he was pulled away from his intense focus when Cortez sat down next to him.

“Hey, Morrison.”

Mouth full, he simply waved at her and closed his eyes with the dopiest smile he could muster. She laughed and laid back.

“That was seriously awesome what you did for Abdi, man.” He swallowed.

“I mean...What was I supposed to do? She’s part of our unit.”

Cortez shrugged in response. “I mean, I’m sure someone would have climbed back down to get her if she was really in that much trouble. Cuz, you know.” She sighed. “We wouldn’t pass without _everyone.”_

Jack frowned. “It wasn’t, like, that special. I just pulled her foot out of a tree.”

Dramatically, the woman beside him rolled her eyes and exhaled loudly once more, reaching out to punch him in the shoulder. “Accept some freaking praise, Morrison. Obviously we could’ve pulled her out, but you were the only one who stayed with her, made sure she was okay, and calmed her down enough to reach the top of that wall. It’s not an easy thing that you did, and it wouldn’t have been any easier if it was someone else. Kay?” He nodded along dumbly. After another few moments his granola bar was gone and he dusted off his hands. Cortez sat back up and squinted. “Looks like your boyfriend’s coming.”

“Oh.”

She snickered. “You sound thrilled.” It was Jack’s turn to lift and drop his shoulders.

“He’s not gonna be happy his group was almost last.”

“Ugh you’re right. Have fun dealing with him.”

Even as he protested with a “hey!” she was already rising to her feet and patting down her pants before jogging off to another group. Jack waited until Isaac was closer before he greeted him. Isaac leaned against the raised beam that Jack had sat next to and grunted in response. “How did it go?”

Isaac lifted an eyebrow. “Super.”

“You weren’t last?” Jack tried. Isaac didn’t say anything to that, only rubbed at Jack’s head for a minute. Jack was already nearly relaxed into a puddle when Isaac ripped his hand away. Jack scrambled to his feet when he realized that the drill instructors were walking over to where the majority of people were resting, and those who were estranged from the group were already making their ways over.

The final group had ended their exercise just a short time before they would’ve been called away from it. Everyone was given half an hour to break for their very late lunch, and then they would meet back up at that spot. The drill sergeants had brought several coolers full of sandwiches. Jack and Isaac got into line behind nearly everyone else, though it didn’t take long for them to dole out the food. When they approached though, Jack could see the darker pink color of ham peeking out underneath the bread in the plastic-wrapped sandwiches.

He bit the inside of his cheek but didn’t say anything until he was in front of the drill instructor.

“We’ve only got ham left, is that okay?”

Jack shifted to one foot, disappointed. “I uh. Can’t eat ham.” He took the little bag of potato chips that was supposed to come with the sandwich and stood off to the side.

Silently, Abdi approached him and bumped his hip. He was a little ashamed of the squeal that passed his lips before he could contain it. “Got you a turkey right before they ran out.” She passed it to him and his brows raised.

“Wait, no, no you don’t have to it’s fine—”

“It’s fine. I like ham better anyway.” Without another word she nabbed a different sandwich and walked off. Jack called out a thank you after her, but if she heard she didn’t acknowledge it. Isaac joined him after another couple seconds, and he looked just as surprised by the meal in Jack’s hands as the blonde did.

“Where’d you get that?” Jack pointed at Abdi in the distance.

“She just gave it to me. I don’t even know how she knew I didn’t eat pork, but she said she saved it for me.”

Isaac had already unwrapped part of his sandwich and taken a bit. “Huh. Sure nice of her. Come on, let’s go get a place to sit.” Jack stared at the woman for a beat before turning around and taking a few quick paces to catch up.

Their lunches were brief, and only after they were done did Jack realize how exhausted he was becoming. According to the schedule they were given yesterday, they still had another five hours to go before they were allowed to get dinner, wash up, and turn in for the night. Once their time was up, they had to surround the three drill instructors who explained exactly what hell they’d be going through.

Not a single newbie had ever completed the obstacle course in under ten minutes, but that was the goal for the end of their trip at Victory Forge. It was reasonable, as Jack had come to find about everything at basic. Even if he truly honestly believed that he couldn’t do it, he always managed to surprise himself. This would be no exception.

The obstacle course included, but was not limited to; barbed wire, tire sprints, a rope climb, a wall climb, three different points where they had to shoot at several targets, and a rope swing onto a platform.

Simple enough, Jack told himself as he shook out his body.

He was one of the first people to try and run through it. There was enough room in the course for three people to go at once, and Jack was the fourth group of three to run it.

True to Birdy’s words, no one did it in under ten.

No one that is, until Isaac damn Hong ran it. It was incredible in all honesty. Everyone watched in utter amazement as he flew through the course in just under nine minutes, running to Jack to kiss him quickly before taking his place back at the end of the line. He was yelled at briefly for his display of affection, but the instructors were all more amazed by his performance. He was asked over and over again if he had somehow done this exact course before, and he answered them all with a grin and a simple, “Nope.”

After him, everyone else’s runs seemed so lackluster. Even Jack, who had been on the shorter side of fourteen minutes had been absolutely, completely and utterly blown out of the water.

Especially by a newcomer like Isaac.

Each time the whistle was blown indicating they could go, everyone’s times decreased, but Isaac’s stayed consistent. His time only wavered by a second or two. You could tell by looking at him that it wasn’t exactly a walk in the park to be moving that fast and unguided. He wasn’t spared from the scratches from the wire, and the scrape he got on his arm from his slip and fall was just as real as anyone else’s injuries. Yet every time he managed to run a lap around the rest of them and go back to the end of the line like a champ.

Jack was amazed. More than amazed, even.

They each did about six rounds before they were sent to the main cabin for dinner.

Cortez, Isaac, Jack and a few others rounded up at a table in their usual group. There were simple dried add-water meals in front of them, but the meal Jack had gotten was decent at the very least.

At the beginning of their meal, the three drill instructors watching over them all stood on a little stage that was really just a wide table with a couple extra sticks propping it up. Birdy yelled for everyone’s attention, and the place went silent almost immediately. Only then did Jack realize that the fourth sergeant that was there that morning was absent. He tilted his head for a moment but the thought was quickly erased from his mind and replaced with a feeling of dread. The other male instructor was talking about how he was impressed that all of them managed to make it over the wall, and the usual _but that’s just the start of it_ banter that he’d probably said thousands of times before. This was nothing upsetting to Jack.

No, what was was when he began to say, “There are a few individuals that stood out today.” There was a brief mention of the group that had gotten over the wall first, then remarks about the leader that hadn’t done the fastest job, but was commendable enough. He continued onto Isaac then. “Next up is Hong, who somehow managed to beat every single record on the first day’s obstacle course on base record. Congratulations, Hong.” There was polite clapping in the room like there had been for everyone else, and Jack smiled at him and whispered his own _good job._

Just when he was beginning to think he was off the hook, the instructor started speaking again.

“Finally for tonight, for his helpfulness despite the risk to himself, turned back and helped another soldier who was caught in a tree. His comrades and Drill Instructor Birdy recommended him to me for his thoughtfulness. Even though it was just a test today, who knows what you can do in the future. Congratulations to you too, Morrison. Keep up the good work.” He wrapped it up, and despite the fact that Jack felt like he was going to engulf in flames his body was so hot, everyone turned back to dinner. He’d gotten the same less-than-enthused applause, and that was it. He let out a sigh of relief and truly relaxed with his friends for the first time that day.

Dinner ended, and they were sent off to shower for the night. Jack was fortunate to get in and out among the earlier crowd, and Isaac wasn’t long after him. They relaxed in their bunks that Isaac had bribed to get next to each other.

Cautionary lights out was announced, and Jack settled into bed, planning on passing out almost immediately until Isaac whispered to him.

“Jack?”

He hummed in acknowledgement.

“How has no one ever beaten that record before? I mean this isn’t a new base. It’s cool and all that I did but…”

Jack shifted so that he was propped up on his elbow. The lights in the barracks had been dimmed, and in just a few minutes they’d be shut off completely. He blinked a few times to adjust to the change and answered. “I have no idea, honestly. It’s really great that you did though, Isaac. You’re gonna be a legend around here.”

Isaac snickered and jokingly told him to shut up. “I guess…” He trailed off for a second. “I dunno, Jack. I’ve just felt better lately. Haven’t you?”

“Feel the same as I’ve always felt honestly,” was the only thing Jack could say truthfully.

“Huh.” And that was the end of the conversation.

The next couple days went by in a blur. Jack was sure that he had never been in so much pain in his life, but after the final run through of the obstacle course on the third day he was filled with an intense feeling of joy.

Everyone had managed to get under the ten minute mark for the course. Isaac’s final time was five minutes and fourteen seconds, another record. Jack had six minutes forty three seconds, an average time. He was happy with himself for it, but even happier that everyone that came to VF had passed. They were all scheduled for graduation from basic soon.

The bus ride back, everyone was excitedly talking to each other. Plans for after their graduation and family day were made, and when asked, Jack talked about how all four of his sisters would be coming to see him. His friends said they were excited to meet them. Cortez teased him by saying she was going to ask them to pull out the naked baby pictures, and Jack playfully shoved at her face.

He was feeling terrific.

The feeling lasted all of two days before he went to his scheduled phone time, craving to hear his sisters’ voices before they actually arrived.

But when the oldest—Marina—told him that the youngest sister—Olivia—had gotten into an accident and broken her leg, he couldn’t help the lump in his throat and the awful knot in his stomach. He told her that it was fine, and he knew that Marina needed to be there. Ridley couldn’t drive on her own, and Stephanie was reported with the flu. Marina swore that she’d be there if Jack needed her, but he just kept repeated that it was okay.

It wasn’t.

But he would just have to get through the next few days himself. He had to.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey! it's been a long month lol. my bday was 2 days ago tho and im done with work for the summer before school starts up so ill have some more time to write (i hope) 
> 
> as always u can find me on [tumblr](http://whillowed.tumblr.com/) and [twitter](https://twitter.com/maxalackin)!! ask me anything, send comments, or whatever u want! feel free 2 follow for updates or if u wanna be mutuals lol. for your listening pleasure iridian and i have a really good [spotify playlist](https://open.spotify.com/user/22ohf35fkcwkxrtd7vygohata/playlist/3cLNB4KHtJBdPUhe5gbEPC) so u should def check it out !! see u guys next update!


	9. Pour

It had been nearly three weeks since Gabriel last saw Jack Morrison. 

For him, duty called. As for Jack, he was in for a whopping seven weeks at AIT school. After a few days of moping (that he would staunchly deny), Nassar had called in a small favor and found—on good authority she added—that Jack was still in Seattle at the very least. So were many others in his graduating class, and all were enrolled in Infantry School. Though he was only half an hour away, the first couple days that he was gone Gabriel found himself missing the blonde. He thanked whatever god was out there that twenty years prior some brilliant man or woman had opened another Infantry School apart from the one in Georgia. 

Not long after, it got easier. Every time Gabriel’s mind wandered to the other man, he forced himself to get up and  _ do  _ something. He would text Washington to get lunch, or Dabney and Nassar to head to the gym with him, or Rosita if he just needed to laugh. After a week he barely thought about him anymore. It was easier that way. 

This was one of the times where he had Dabney come with him to physically punish themselves. She stood behind him, while her hands rose and fell with the bar Gabriel was pumping—an ever constant presence to make sure he didn’t tire and accidentally drop the weights on his neck. He was thankful for her spotting, but today was just not his day. His thoughts were everywhere. He nearly tripped three times while they were running, and he slammed a dumbbell into his chest while doing bicep curls. Thankfully he’d moved his foot, because the other weight he was holding would have slammed down onto it otherwise when he dropped it. 

After only twenty reps his mind wandered, arms nearly giving out. Dabney had lurch forward in order to grab ahold of the bar and help him settle it back on its rest. 

He heaved a few times, clenching his trembling fists. Dabney gave him a pat on the back as he sat up and waited for him to make a call. 

Instead of saying anything, he thought about what had caused him to nearly drop the weights in the first place. Dabney crouched next to him, and he held up his index finger for a minute’s rest. She complied. 

Everyone who had been selected to be leaders of the SEP program were sent the same exact email about what they’d need to prepare for the upcoming pickup date. His tablet had flashed bright blue with an irritating little chirp at exactly eight in the morning that day. After he looked at that message he found himself unable to fall back asleep. 

A month and five days from today they were heading out to the Middle-of-Nowhere, USA to a base no one had ever heard of. The email they’d gotten didn’t even cover what  _ state  _ it was in, only that it would be in the midwest region. 

One month from today everyone enrolled in the SEP program would vanish. 

Gabriel shook his head and shuddered. The lack of activity got to him, the air conditioner chilling his sweat-soaked skin. He hooked one hand on the bar to ensure he didn’t clip the back of his head on it and lowered himself down on the bench. Dabney wordlessly bounced back up and resumed her former position. Gabriel took one steadying breath and grunted as he lifted once more. He could feel his muscles begin to ache and he concentrated on that burning feeling in his arms rather than anything else around him. 

Beads of sweat rolled down his forehead and rescinded to his hairline. The shirt he was wearing dampened as he kept pressing. A collection of fluid gathered in the divot above his collarbone. He could feel himself weakening as he worked, yet he kept going. 

It became harder and harder to keep his flat pressed firmly on the ground, his thighs hugging either side of the padded bench as he tried to remain tethered to the ground. It wouldn’t do to throw out his back because he pressed himself too hard. So when he was shaking and only  _ barely  _ able to push out his arms and lift the weights himself, he set the bar down. 

Though he was trained to breathe in and out as the bar moved, as soon as he was done he coughed loudly and gasped for air. Dabney threw him a towel and he clutched onto it for a few moments before he had the strength to even wipe off his face and neck. 

“How many—” he paused to swallow and take a few more ragged breaths. “—Reps was that?” 

“Sixty-two.” 

“Holy shit.” 

She smiled and replied, “Yup,” popping the ‘p’ loudly. “Beat your record by seven.” He would’ve been more excited if he didn’t feel like he had just been through hell. She watched as Gabriel finally clambered to his feet and moved to wipe the grime he’d left on the bench. He wanted to protest, but couldn’t find the air to do so. 

The two of them finished up on the treadmills with something akin to power-walking, and Gabriel’s heart returned to only a slightly elevated pace. They slowed to a near crawl and hopped off simultaneously. Gabriel waved her off as a goodnight and headed to the showers. There were a couple other men in the locker room when he entered, but no one paid him any mind as he stripped and snagged his towel. 

When the water hit him just shy of freezing he gasped. He let his body adjust to it and washed quickly. His breathing was shallow, chest not wanting to expand enough to allow full range. Shampooing was easier ever since he’d gotten his most recent haircut. Army regulation while he was a sergeant did not allow his hair to be more than two inches long, and with the way his locks curled, two inches was more than enough for him. Now that his commanders were satisfied, he didn’t need to worry about it for another while. 

One other man entered the shower, but they ignored each other. Gabriel rinsed and scratched absently at his abs while the water pounded onto his head. He pressed his palm flat on his stomach and sighed quietly before shutting off the water. 

He grabbed his towel and wrapped it around his waist before walking back into the main part of the locker room. 

By then the others had vanished and he was free to dress in privacy. He put on a clean pair of sweatpants with  _ ARMY  _ in bold blue letters on the side. He noticed that his tablet in his locker was lazily flashing with the same blue light that it always did when he had an unopened email. He frowned and turned his shirt right-side out and slipped it over his head. He looked around himself to confirm once again that no one was there before picking it up. He shut his locker and sat down on the wooden bench behind him. 

**_Unopened message from: Null_ **

Promising.

Gabriel shoved his things into his duffle bag and tucked the tablet under his arm. 

The walk back to his room was quicker than normal given that he was walking fast enough to be considered just under jogging. He nearly skidded past his own door. He didn’t know what the protocol was for looking at the messages he received from SEP, but he didn’t want to risk anything but looking at them in public. He threw his bag down and dropped onto his bed, sucking in a breath as he pressed his hand to the screen’s scanner. The device unlocked almost instantaneously and he idled on the homescreen for a moment. 

Two emails in one day was a little odd from this secret government project. In fact, since he’d been interviewed and ‘deemed suitable for leadership,’ they had gotten one single email. It had contained nothing but a date, location, and time. 

_ March 15th, Main dining hall, 03:30.  _

Since then, the date was pushed forward in the email they’d gotten earlier in the day. Now it was  _ March 10th _ they would be leaving, but the location and the time was the same. 

He took one more long inhale to steady himself and relaxed before pressing on the email icon. Immediately the newest one popped up and he clicked on it. As usual it loaded SEP’s blue background with the geometrical shapes in the back. The text was white and sans serif, clean. Could be Arial or some other boring font. The logo itself wasn’t complicated either. A minimalistic globe and the latitude and longitude symbols. A glowing white border around the earth and a simple SEP in bold stamped on top of it. It all worked nicely, but it gave nothing about the company away. 

He scanned the list of recipients of this new message before continuing on. Everyone who received it had been in that conference room the day they went over how to be a leader within the program. He set his brow and carried on. 

_ Hello.  _

That was a nice, easy start. 

_ If you are receiving this email you have 48 hours to confirm that you have read the terms and conditions before continuing onto the true contents of this email. Anyone who does not confirm will be ejected from the SEP program.  _

Interesting. He scrolled just a bit and the aforementioned terms  _ and  _ conditions were brought before him. He skimmed, but it was all the same information he had already read over and signed away on. A waste of time. He scrolled with his pointer finger down rapidly, flicking his wrist over and over to get to the bottom of it. Finally at the end of it all there was an unchecked box to indicate that  _ yes  _ he had at the very least expended the effort to reach the bottom. After he checked, another box—though this one much larger—appeared for his signature. 

With an extreme taste for the petty, he signed with his middle finger and clicked ‘ _ confirm.’  _ After only a moment he was taken to the real email he’d been trying to get to for what felt like ages now. 

There was another brief introductory paragraph welcoming him to the page, and how now he was sworn to secrecy for all eternity. Or something along those lines. Blessedly, after that everything was brief and easy to read. Gabriel wondered if they taught complete and utter apathy as soon as you entered the SEP. He was unsure if he’d be willing to give up his sarcasm to enter the program. 

Regardless, the very next paragraph caught his eye. 

_ ATTENTION! _ He snickered to himself that normally that word would cause anyone to focus on it.  _ All future leaders of the SEP training teams will soon receive an email regarding the full list of prospective members of their teams. Each leader will pick no more than five people for their team. Every prospective member will have an attached file regarding their history, skills, and personality. In the event that a member picked has more than one interested commander they will be allowed to choose which unit they enter. Final selections are due before 03:30, April 15th. Any late entries will result in a randomly assigned unit. Final decisions will be made on April 20th, 08:00.  _

After that was only the same anonymous signature that signed off on each message, and Gabriel exited out of the email. He hummed. There were a few people he had in mind for his team, but he was worried that the list wouldn’t include anyone he was thinking of. 

He had to admit though, the vagueness of ‘soon’ worried him. He bit his bottom lip and worried it for a second before releasing. He had some time to think about it, good. He could talk to Washington, Dabney and Nassar about it in the meantime, good. None of them had a single clue as to how long they had to actually make these decisions, bad. Potentially very bad. As he always did though, Gabriel would roll with it. 

Gabriel checked the time and sighed. His phone betrayed that it was time to go to the rec room and watch the nightly news. 

This task was feeling more and more like a chore every night. Nothing was relenting in terms of the Omnic tensions. The same stories were covered over and over with minimal information being changed. It was a concerning topic to be sure, but things were stagnate it seemed. Even the pro fear-mongers were having a hard time coming up with anything. And yet the topic still dominated the headlines. 

Within minutes Gabriel found himself sinking into the couch with Dabney on one side of him and Nassar on the other. Washington sat in an arm chair next to the couch, his Holopad tablet balancing delicately on one knee. The device’s pen was between his lips, and he had his hands full with some ancient looking papers, two phones, and another Holopad. 

“What’cha got there?” Gabriel asked, ignoring Nassar when she kicked up first one leg on him, then another when he didn’t protest. 

The other man said nothing, didn’t even turn his head up. His eyes flickered to Gabriel’s and one eyebrow raised before he lowered his gaze back to his things. 

“He told us he was ‘busy’ and not to ‘bother him.’” Nassar added helpfully. 

“Which she took to mean throw paper balls at him every three minutes.” 

“Like clockwork,” Washington added distractedly, tapping on his tablet as he was. Nassar only shrugged and the commercial that was on screen when Gabriel entered the room concluded. Dabney settled into the cushions further as the station’s local news title flashed across the screen. 

Nassar crossed one leg over the other in Gabriel’s lap and he smacked her once, a warning to settle down. They sat in silence for a few moments to just watch the introductions for the news anchors for tonight. Gabriel thought for a second, trying to remember just what it was he felt was missing. Abruptly it came to him and he blurted out, “Where’s Rosita?” 

Dabney shifted. “I actually haven’t seen much of her the past few days. You guys?” Washington shook his head as Nassar confirmed the same thing.

“Weird,” Gabriel conceded. 

“Definitely.” 

They left the topic at that. 

As predicted, it turned out to be a waste of time. Even the usual feel-good stories felt lackluster and boring. A kitten saved from a burning apartment building. An elementary school teacher getting fired for enabling bullying against an Omnic janitorial member, and the worst offending children getting in-school suspension (rightfully deserved they all agreed on). Then lastly covered was the monthly can drive for the homeless was in full swing. Gabriel sighed for what felt like the millionth time that night. 

He was invited to play chess, and he reluctantly accepted. It didn’t take long though for him to become tired of it, and he excused himself for the night eventually. He nearly bumped into a few people as they strode into the rec room, and after a quick apology he darted back to his room. 

There was nothing much left to do for the night. The break he’d gotten between recruit batches was long over, and he had to be up early tomorrow to prepare. The missing training dummies were miraculously returned to the equipment room after a threat was issued via email. It was mostly Gabriel’s doing, begging the higher-ups to send it out. He hated feeling like a snitch, truly. But the results were satisfying. 

Come the morning after the email was sent, there were the six dummies back in the room with a Post-It note stuck to one’s forehead. All that was on there was a scribbled apology about them being drunk when they took them, and Gabriel let the issue go. 

Now four days later he could have his recruits beat the living hell out of the rubber men instead of each other for a bit of a break. 

Gabriel undressed quickly and shuffled into bed. He browsed some online articles for a bit, but they all had the same information that he’d just seen repeated earlier that night. He set his tablet on the nightstand and scrolled through some messages on his phone. As he was about to put that down too, he quickly fired off a text to Rosita asking her what was up. After that, he closed his eyes and tried his best to fall asleep.

_ Try  _ was the key word. 

After an hour of tossing and turning he resigned himself to picking up his phone and opening a porn site in his browser. He set one hand  _ low  _ on his stomach and let his fingers brush against the tip of his dick while he browsed for something to watch. He settled on the fourth video that was titled  _ Blonde Hunk Gets Pounded in Shower _ , squeezed some lotion in one hand, and closed his eyes. 

Watching porn for him was always a more tedious thing for him. He preferred to imagine a scenario and work with it. Tonight he didn’t feel like putting in the effort however. It was simpler to let the sounds of the water create the scene for him. From there he got busy. His hand tightened around himself and he dropped the phone to his chest so he could let his other hand roam over his body. Underneath his eyelids he could disassociate the hand from himself, and pretended that it was someone else caressing him. When the moans of the  _ Blonde Hunk  _ increased in volume and pitch, Gabriel worked himself faster. Thankfully, the other actor didn’t say much. It was a blessing from the normally corny lines that tops had in these videos. 

In minutes Gabriel had himself bucking into his own hand. He realized slowly in his haze that it had been too, too long since he’d last done this. That thought was quickly overwhelmed by the sudden spike of arousal he felt. 

He wanted to tease himself for longer just to make it last, but he was too engrossed in his own fantasy to slow down. In his mind he pulled the  _ Blonde Hunk’s  _ hair right as he let out a little scream in the video. In his mind the  _ Hunk  _ pressed back into him as hard as Gabriel was going. In his mind he was so close, he was so fucking close, he—

Gabriel came with a silent shout, throwing his head back and exhaling as his rigid body lay back into his bed, prone and exhausted. The scene vanished as soon as he opened his eyes and he grabbed a tissue to wipe himself off and turned over. 

After that it didn’t take long for sleep to claim him.

The next morning, Gabriel heard his alarm clock in his dream long before it actually woke him. When he blinked his eyes open his vision was hazy. He rubbed them, which yielded only slightly better results. He sat up to make sure he didn’t just fall back asleep again and closed his eyes for a time. He was able to pry his lids open once more, and when he did he found that he could see marginally better. 

One more scrub at his face and he was finally capable of starting his morning routine. He didn’t though, preferring to grab his phone and play a few rounds of a game he’d downloaded a week ago. He didn’t arise until he’d expended all of his lives in the game for a few hours. With a large yawn he hauled himself upright and out of bed. His morning routine went quickly and soon after snagging some toast and a coffee he found himself in front of the equipment closet. 

It took some maneuvering, and he had to clench his toast between his teeth, but he unlocked the door and stepped inside. He dusted his shirt off from the crumbs the bread had left and grabbed his usual bag. 

From there he managed to shove nearly an entire slice into his mouth, down his piping hot coffee, and grabbed two of the training dummies. 

He dragged them out, scuttling backwards into the gym. He dropped them off and repeated the same action twice more. A few minutes later and each dummy was positioned exactly where he wanted them and he paused, settling his hands on his hips with a satisfied grin. 

Said grin was immediately wiped from his face when he heard a cough behind him and he whipped around, trying not to let the startle show. 

Standing behind him was Rosita, dark bags under her eyes and hair in a ponytail that looked like it hadn’t been disentangled in days. She was in a bad way, and Gabriel could tell. But as soon as he opened his mouth to confront her about where she’d been, she cut him off. “Sorry. I should go. I didn’t know you’d be in here.” 

Baffled, he replied, “I’m in here every day at the same time. What do you mean—” 

“I said I was sorry, and I’m leaving now.” 

“Rosita, you don’t have to go—” 

Whatever he was going to say died on his lips as she hurried away from him. He looked around himself and groaned. Recruits would begin pouring in any second now and here he was, mouth agape and arms slung down at his sides. There was no time to dwell on it though. He still needed to review the lesson plan and mentally prepare himself for the coming students. Rosita could wait for a few hours. 

True to his expectations, the first woman in his class joined him in the gym shortly. After that the rest of them trickled in one after another. 

Gabriel told everyone what to do and set them out onto the floor. From there he waited and contemplated. His thoughts had little to do with anything other than critiquing his recruits forms. Despite everything else seemingly falling to hell around him, Gabriel Reyes was nothing if not professional. He blinked and averted his gaze when a group of concerned trainees knocked over a training dummy and looked over at him in fear. 

Professional Reyes let them believe he hadn’t seen and he surveyed the rest of the room. 

Unlike the last time he had instructed, there were no phenomenal failures like Morrison had been at the beginning. He also couldn’t foresee any huge success stories, even from the marginally more talented in the group. Everyone was just perfectly average in this group. He loathed the lack of excitement. 

A man was having trouble with a kick he’d gone over yesterday, so Gabriel trotted over to help. He righted him and returned to the center of the room to await anyone else having problems. 

There was nothing. 

The group broke for lunch and came back soon after, and Gabriel went over the second half of today’s plan. Yet again they took to it well, and Gabriel was left bored and fidgety. 

With Jack, he only had to wait to have an extensive work out with him during their sparring time. Even during class he was engaged enough with everyone to stave off some of his excess energy until he hit one of the gyms. 

Instead he stood with his arms crossed and foot tapping against the mats. He repeated the same catchy pop song in his head over and over and bobbed one hip along to the recollected beat minutely enough that no one would be able to tell what he was doing. 

Finally the time came for everyone to wrap up and head inside. Gabriel had to stifle the sigh of relief he desperately wanted to let out as he followed the men inside their locker room and waited for their drill instructor to come pick them up. Soon after, he was freed from his duties for the day and he fled to the mess hall. 

Grabbing food took longer than he would have liked, but he supposed that was on him for coming at the busiest time. When he found his table amongst the masses, only Birdy had arrived so far. They greeted each other and silently agreed not to say much to each other until someone else came. Gabriel picked at his food for a time and mercifully Dabney and Nassar walked in together. They were seated across him almost within a blink of an eye and Nassar lightly kicked Gabriel underneath the table while they sat. 

Her focus was on Dabney—who was still mid-sentence—but when Gabriel huffed, she smirked ever so slightly. He kicked her back just a bit harder and Dabney quickly shot out “Stop it,” before continuing.

Truthfully Gabriel had no intention of focusing on what she was talking about since he hadn’t heard the first half of the conversation, but it was nice to have some chatter filling the table. 

Birdy didn’t stick around much longer. He was nearly done eating when Gabriel had showed up, but had long been done before the two women arrived. He gave Nassar a kiss on the cheek when she teased him, and left the rest of them with a friendly goodbye. Gabriel gave a simple wave and Birdy walked away with a roll of his eyes and a smile. 

Nassar bodily turned to watch him leave and as soon as he was out the door, she whipped back to her other companions. Like a flick of a switch she was suddenly full of energy and practically bouncing. “Don’t ask how I know this, but I know when they’re sending out the list of recruits we get to pick.” Her tone was hushed, but Dabney still put a finger to her lips with a pointed look. 

“What? How?” 

“I said  _ don’t _ ask, Gabe.” Her glare was enough to make him feel a little guilty. “Wait ‘til Washington gets here though, then I’ll explain.” 

As she said, she spoke no more of the matter until the man f the hour was seated beside Gabriel. Nassar barely allowed him to get the word  _ hello  _ out of his mouth before she began speaking again. 

By then many of the people that were in the hall had dissipated. There were only some people at tables further away from them, so they could talk without fear of eavesdroppers. Gabriel was still worried that somehow the SEP had stuck a bug on them and would target a kill switch if they heard this conversation. He humored the idea enough to picture how telling Nassar to shut up would go, and instantly regretted the thought. 

“I have some news, guys.” 

“You told us this already,” Dabney muttered. 

“Um, yes. But Washington didn’t know that I had a scoop. So if you don’t mind,” she stressed the last word and Dabney chuckled before leaning her elbows onto the table and pursed her lips. Nassar sucked in a breath and turned to face the two in front of her. “Anyway. It’s about You-Know-What.” They did indeed ‘know what.’ “The first updates that we got were on a Thursday, right? And what is today?” She didn’t wait for an answer before she continued. “Thursday, good work everyone.” Gabriel hadn’t noticed the pattern (if only two emails could be called that), but he nodded anyway when the rest of them did. 

“Alright, this is where it gets tricky. I looked at the times that they were sent out. The first one was at o’ two-hundred exactly. Like, not even a millisecond off. Then  _ precisely  _ three hours later, the second email came in. Seven days later, at the same time, we get this one.” 

“I’m pretty sure we know where you’re going with this.” Washington said in between bites of mashed potatoes. 

“Chill for a second, I’ve got this big guy.” 

He sat back and folded his arms with an eyebrow raised. Gabriel snorted and Nassar took a deep breath before continuing. After that she sighed and frowned, shrugging her shoulders. “Actually, yeah. That was pretty much it. Just a week from today at o’ two-hundred. That’s just my theory anyway.” 

Dabney leaned into her and off again and muttered  _ good work  _ as Washington apologized for cutting her off. 

Their small group pondered for a few minutes about all of this before Gabriel broke the silence. “So we have just under a week right?” 

“So says my estimate,” Nassar responded. 

“Well, don’t we kind of already know who’s going to be on that list? We saw all the recruits that went missing for a day at a time, so it’s not a huge mystery. The only secret is if anyone we don’t already see daily on base is on there.” 

Washington let out a little cough. “How do we know that the soldiers  _ here  _ are going to be the ones we can pick?” 

For some reason when Gabriel heard that, his heart sank. 

“Oh,” Nassar stated simply. Dabney echoed her. 

The large man went on “Just a thought. We can’t get too attached to anyone here for our teams just in case.” 

No one argued with that. 

 

\----------------

 

The next week went by slower than Gabriel had perhaps ever experienced. He spent long hours with his recruits, and little time with his friends. Everyone seemed to be too busy to make more than the bare minimum amount of downtime. Gabriel understood and respected it. After all, he was doing exactly the same. 

His new batch of trainees were set to have their test in just a few short days, and once again Gabriel found he had to scramble to email the potential judges and combat opponents for their evaluation. He was in the middle of exchanging with one of the fighters he needed—brow furrowed and lip thoroughly gnawed on from the stress of trying to trade in a favor for their help—when the little chirp indicating a new message startled him. 

Automatically he filled in the rest of the sentence he was typing and used his finger as a signature before sending it off. The SEP foundation was the furthest thing from his mind even as he opened their email. He read the opening line before chancing a glance at the clock. Just as Nassar had predicted, it was only a minute after two pm that he was looking at their message. 

Gabriel shifted on his feet and looked around him. The recruits were doing just fine without him for now. Surely he’d have enough time to read the email before someone got knocked out. 

So he did just that. 

_ ATTENTION! _

At least how whoever was in charge of SEP messaging were proper consistent with how they began the emails. 

_ Every future team leader for SEP will shortly receive another email with the list of potential team members.  _

The warning that any recruit who was chosen by more than one leader would have their choice of who commanded them was the same, and the email concluded with the same ‘ _ Final selections are due before 03:30, April 15th. Any late entries will result in a randomly assigned unit. Final decisions will be made on April 20th, 08:00.’  _

Signed off and marked with the same SEP branding they had been. He frowned at the logo, once more lamenting on the fact that they couldn’t give a  _ little  _ hint as to what the letters stood for—if anything. 

The rest of the time spent watching the recruits train was excruciating. He wanted desperately to at least peek at the list and begin formulating a plan, but that wasn’t even out yet. 

Three hours later, as predicted, another notification from his tablet went off. He ignored it, though he was burning with the desire to check. He gave out instructions on the last hour of their training, and attempted to focus his mind on his students whaling on each other rather than the device fixed in the crook of his arm. He waited, and waited, and  _ waited _ until finally he could dismiss the yet-to-be soldiers and hustled into the locker room. He changed, and ran around putting equipment away. There was a fresh-faced eighteen year old that always helped him but away things, and today he was more thankful for her help than ever. 

Once everything was done, he gave her a metaphorical pat on the head and sent her on her way. He rushed to dinner and grabbed his tray, hardly even caring as he threw on sandwich toppings and grabbed a container of applesauce before launching himself into his seat, heaving. 

Washington tipped his head in greeting Gabriel smiled in response. Dabney was already there, skillfully cramming a salad into her mouth. Washington was merely sipping on a coffee, and Nassar plopped herself down at the table next to Washington and practically vibrated. 

“Did you guys get the emails?” 

Dabney nodded, betwixt bites of her lettuce drenched with ranch. Gabriel and Washington both confirmed that they had.

“Has anyone looked yet?” She was trying to keep her voice down, they could tell. She still needed to be nudged lightly and she immediately dropped her volume. “I haven’t yet.” 

“Neither have I,” Washington said. 

“I opened it up, but I haven’t actually looked at it,” Dabney said after swallowing and taking a sip of her drink. They looked expectantly at Gabriel after that and he woefully shook his head. The four of them fell silent for a beat while a friend of the group passed, though they thankfully decided to keep their interaction at a simple  _ hello  _ and  _ how are you guys _ before meandering along. 

“So? What’s the plan?” 

“I’m going to go to my room for a while and just browse. We can meet back up later but I want to focus on this.” Every practical Dabney. Nassar bobbed her head in agreement, and the idea sounded just fine to Gabriel. 

A large sigh came from the man across Gabriel. “I have to go to a meeting tonight. I won’t even be out until zero nine hundred.” 

Nassar made a face. “Can’t you just skip it? This is way more exciting. And dare I say, way more important.” 

“That I cannot,” he replied with a snicker. “Though you’re probably right.” 

She suggested that he take a look at the list then, but he was already standing up. Washington took one last swig of his coffee and disentangled himself from the bench seat. “I can’t or I’ll be late. They’re giving us free pizza from our bar though, so I can’t complain too much. I’ll catch you guys later. Rec room?” 

“As always,” Dabney quipped, looking at him with a mix of sympathy and something that said  _ glad I’m not you.  _ He gave a two finger salute passively and left them to their own devices. They all finished their food quickly and idled for only a few moments more. After that they all left to go to their separate quiet rooms. Gabriel strode to his dorm quickly, but with each passing step grew more and more anxious. The thought of no one he recognized being on that list was very possible, and he wondered just how he’d make any decisions like that. Still, there was nothing for it as he entered the blackened space and flicked on his light, launching himself onto his bed right after. He pulled his holopad out and maneuvered onto the email that they had sent out. 

There was only one line of text that was in the message aside from the signatures, logo, and link to the list.  _ Click the link below to begin looking at profiles.  _ He took a deep breath and pressed the highlighted text with his pointer finger.

He was redirected instantaneously. The page popped up with the same SEP header, and the names of everyone that they had sent began to fill in. One after another, each taking no more than a mere split second the links to their profiles appeared on the page. Near the top was each letter of the alphabet, the letter  _ A _ selected, but the rest of them added as hyperlinks. Gabriel gave a half-abandoned scroll, and the bar on the side showed him that he had a long way to go before he reached the bottom.

Starting with the first one, he pressed the name and their profile appeared. He read through it quickly, not paying much attention. He clicked the  _ X _ in the corner of the screen and the profile closed, leaving him exactly where he had been on the original page. That was useful at the very least. 

After what spent like hours going through each and every person’s profiles, at least to scan over them  Gabriel finally found Jack’s profile. Underneath the splurge of alphabetized last names, there his was—listed under Morrison, Jackson A. The miniscule picture next to his name didn’t do him justice. 

Curiously, he tapped on the profile and waited a mere split second for everything to load. 

Again, his name wasn’t in the correct order but this time Gabriel got to see his full middle name. The full view of the picture was much more charming than the dinky preview had been. His hair was shorter than any style Gabriel had seen him with. The picture was probably taken a week after their first buzzcuts were issued. Whereas he wasn’t ugly with a bald head, Jack with at least some hair was a huge improvement. 

Gabriel thought back to when his military ID picture was taken. As a child he’d managed to knock his head off a table. There was a long, thin scar visible any time he got his hair cut, and his picture did nothing to hide it. Gabriel’s face in the picture made him look wild and surprised. In reality he had asked for a moment to ward off a sneeze, but the photographer ignored him and counted down from three. Right after the flash went off, Gabriel sneezed and was sent away. As soon as he saw the picture he hated it and kept it secret from anyone who wasn’t required to see it. 

Now looking back on the memory he chuckled. He also sent out a quick prayer to whoever was listening that new pictures would be taken as soon as they entered the SEP program. It was embarrassing enough having to show his ID to those who knew him, but he’d be mortified if complete strangers were introduced to him with that picture.

Finished with his own distraction, he turned back down to look at his holopad and quickly pressed his finger to it to keep the screen from going completely dark. He squinted and readjusted his eyes to the blue light emanating from it, and got back to work. 

As with every single other profile he’d viewed, the layout was much like the Army dog tags they were issued after the bold white title of their names. 

_ Morrison, Jackson Abraham _

Spaced out underneath it in much smaller font read; 

_ 974-28-3274 _

_ AB POS _

His height, weight, hair and eye colors came next. Immediately following, strengths and weaknesses were listed in the same format everyone else was allowed and Gabriel reviewed it, finding no surprise in anything listed. 

_ Strengths: One of top marksmen in Basic and AIT, top of class in combat training, incredible ability to work within a team, able to think outside of the box in necessary situations, follows orders accurately, highly recommended for his ability to boost morale and easy personality. _

_ Weaknesses: Has shown no interest in leadership, occasionally needs some coaching when completing new tasks, weak-willed. _

At the bottom of his profile—just as with all the others—there were two rounded boxes for buttons. One read  _ Add to list of potentials,  _ and the other read  _ Add to selected team.  _ He stared at them for a moment, frowning. 

He closed his eyes, and held his breath as he pressed one of the buttons on the screen. 

 

\------------------------------------------

 

AIT wasn’t the hell for Jack that so many people made it out to be. Sure it was weird and often times difficult, but ultimately by the end of it Jack felt like he could do anything now. 

For seven weeks he—and everyone else that went to the same school as he did—were taught how to use just about every weapon under the sun. Then when they learned everything there was to about it, how to maintain it so it was kept in  _ tip-top shape _ —as their instructor cheerfully explained to them.

Isaac took to it well, telling story after story to Jack about how he’d essentially grown up learning how to take care of guns and knives. Jack met the tasks at a bit slower pace, but he got the hang of it. Isaac more than once seemed more vexed with the blonde’s struggling than anyone else. 

“It’s easy, Jack. Once you learn one the rest are almost exactly the same.” 

And yet for the first few days, Jack’s assembly was the slowest out of almost anyone’s. That is, out of everyone nation-wide that signed up for Infantry School at that location, he was fourth to last. Soon though he got it, and Isaac stopped looking at him with a mixture of pity and exasperation. 

After the first week, the objectives changed. Now they were made to drive Army issued vehicles in about ten different training courses. Jack did alright here, but he was quietly informed that perhaps a job as a motor transport operator was not for him. He quietly agreed. The biggest thing he’d ever driven was a tractor in his family’s cornfield. Now he was expected to keep everyone sane and happy while not crashing a huge armored car over what seemed like a million hills in two square inches of off-road. At the end of his he took heart in the fact that he at least was not the man who drove so poorly that at the end of his road test, one of the instructors got out of the car and threw up. They were given a crash course on how to repair their vehicles in case the need arose, and then sent on their way to land reconnaissance training. 

They spent a few days getting evaluated by instructors, and by themselves. Jack was highly praised, and highly criticized. Whereas there were many things that he was more than capable of doing—and doing  _ well  _ he was told—there were other areas that needed improvement. He resolved to take care of it. After that ordeal, they were sent off to a huge forest, and assigned units. Each unit had an instructor that was told to sit back and only help minimally, but the focus was on the trainees to get them through the next four days without dying. 

During this time they weren’t allowed to take their gear off, sleep on anything more substantial than a tarp, or even wash their hands. Jack did his best to clean his hands in whatever little stream or river they came upon, but for the most part he had to deal with the way the dirt seemed to become ingrained in each of the little grooves of his fingers and palms. At some point during the third day he cut his left hand, and didn’t notice until hours later, the front of his hand caked in blood and muck. He didn’t bother to inform his instructor. The last time someone received a non life-threatening injury in their time out here, they were told to just wipe it off as best they could and wrap it in a bandage. He did just that and prayed that he wouldn't get an infection. 

At the end of the fourth day they returned back to main camp, and Jack was allowed the longest shower he’d ever had since he started basic training. Underneath the water he scrubbed and scrubbed at his hands until there was no trace of what they’d gone through the past few days. After that he stood underneath the water and stared at the wall for what felt like years. 

The next day they were brought to another indoors area, air-conditioned and well furnished and told that the rest of their reconnaissance training would be done via virtual reality. Everyone was delighted. After all, they were essentially going to be playing video games. Jack was pleased as well, though he felt a little longing in his chest for the nights that they spent underneath the stars, the calmness and tranquility of the forest lulling them to sleep each night. The vague nostalgia was pushed from his mind the minute he and the others were launched into a competition to see who could survive the longest on what they called ‘nightmare mode’. 

When the instructors found out that their recruits were goofing off rather than taking the training seriously, the entire group was punished with cleaning the entire mess hall for a week straight. 

Following that incident, they took the training much more seriously. Individual VR lead to group practices lead to platoons where if they didn’t survive in the game, they had to start over again. Jack’s platoon did quite well, the position of platoon sergeant was given to a guy that Jack had spoken to twice before, and intimidated the hell out of him. Yet each time they were made to go through an exercise, he got them right to the end without fail.

They were given a mission that they had to plan and four days to execute it. 

Four days later Jack’s group placed second out of everyone. 

A few days later, the squads that they were given for the next phase completed the VR training, and they moved onto map reading and navigation. This portion Jack wasn’t so fond of. At least when he was struggling this time, many of the men and women in AIT were right there with him. When this portion was concluded he found himself even more grateful than anything they’d done so far. 

Minefield safety went well. Jack wasn’t in charge of driving their vehicle through the simulation field, and wasn’t the one doling out orders in the group. They passed and moved on. 

Communications equipment operation came and went, and the same went for the last two phases of AIT—preparing fighting positions and constructing barriers. Soon enough everyone he came in with passed, and they were sent along their merry ways back to whatever base they had come from. 

As soon as they got back, Jack and every other person that had been selected for SEP were met with the sudden news that they would be shipped out soon. 

Those that were part of the program were called down to an office and given said information. Not only that, but those who weren’t selected as leaders would be sorted into groups with one person in charge of their teams. There was a whole speech about how they’d be given a choice if more than one leader wanted them, or if they had an actual complaint about a teammate. They were also warned that their leader might not be anyone from this base, and to be prepared for anything. 

After they were told, excitement began buzzing in the room. They were sworn to secrecy once again, and were allowed to leave. Jack headed to the rec room with Cortez and flung himself into an armchair. She sat across from him and together they sat in silence for a time. 

His head was swimming. Despite everything to the contrary, he didn’t think they would be moving out so  _ fast.  _ According to Army regulation they were supposed to be given their first duty assignment, not preparing to be sent off to God knew where. Not only that, but he could be thrown in a group of all strangers, ripped away from Isaac and Cortez and the rest of his friends. 

When he looked up he saw his companion smiling at him comfortingly, and he tried his best to relax.

“You good?” 

“Yeah, I’m good.” 

She bobbed her head and searched around herself for the television remote. She found it with a small cry of victory and turned it on. 

It was early enough in the morning that no one was in the room with them, and Jack relished the time alone. Well, nearly alone. In two days they were going to be shipped out, leaving everything behind for some program that no one had any idea of what it entailed. Only that it was  _ official  _ and it was  _ secret.  _

Cortez and Jack stared vacantly at the screen containing children’s shows. Neither of them really registered what was on it until someone strolled in and scoffed at the cartoon girl preaching the lesson of friendship. Embarrassed, Cortez changed it. 

Eventually Jack was unable to keep his eyes open, and with a quick farewell headed back to the barracks. 

For two whole days they would be allowed to do whatever they pleased. 

Jack had no idea what to do other than lay in his bed and sleep for the entire time. 

Isaac found him there after a couple hours. He didn’t wake Jack purposefully, only sat on the edge of his bed and opened up a book. Jack cracked an eye open when he felt the dip in his mattress, but closed it and fell asleep once again. 

He awoke when Isaac gently shook his shoulder, and his eyes refused to cooperate at first, firmly staying shut despite Jack pleading with himself to get up. At last he managed himself into a sitting position and rubbed at his eyes, letting out a yawn that hurt his jaw when he was finished. When he could open his eyes for good this time, Isaac was shoving his shoes towards the side of Jack’s bed. 

“Come on, they’re serving dinner.” 

“Dinner?” He mumbled as he swung his feet over the side and lazily shoved them into his boots. He was faced with the realization that he had no idea what time it was or how he had slept that long.

“Yep. You went right through lunch, and you didn’t go get breakfast with the rest of us.” Jack held out his hands, and Isaac took them, grinning before he hauled the other man up. He kissed Jack on the lips and broke away in one quick movement, turning then and making his way to the door. Jack took the time only to shove his laces into his shoes before following after. 

Suddenly he stopped, remembering his little contraband in his duffle bag. He called after Isaac, telling him to go on without him and ducked back into the room, sliding on his knees as soon as he reached his bed. He pulled the bag from underneath it, and rooted around. 

After a few moments of not finding what he was looking for, he grew concerned. He unzipped the bag all the way and threw open the cover. Still, he couldn’t see it. He felt the movements of his chest pick up along with his breath, and finally,  _ finally  _ his fingertips brushed against the triangle-shaped object, and he closed his hand around it. He withdrew his hand from the bag and placed the item in his pocket. 

“Did you find it?” 

Jack was sure he visibly jumped and whirled around to face Isaac, an eyebrow raised. Jack grinned at him sheepishly and bobbed his head. He turned back to zip up the bag and kicked it under the bunk.

“What was it?” Isaac took a half-step towards him and Jack’s mind went blank. 

The sudden feeling of dread overwhelmed him, and that startled him. Isaac raised his other brow this time so both were hiked high on his face, and Jack understood then that he didn’t want Isaac to know what he was carrying. 

He didn’t know why, but the very idea of telling the man the truth seemed like an impossible feat. 

Eventually he stammered out that it was nothing. The look on Isaac’s face revealed that he knew Jack was lying through his teeth, but mercifully he dropped it. Jack let out an inaudible sigh of relief and together the two of them left for the mess hall. 

As they walked Jack’s hand worked its way into his pocket and he rubbed his thumb over the little thing while they made their trek. The detailing of the object was incredible, and at the bottom of it he could trace out each letter with ease. The pad of his finger ran over the entire thing again and again, and every time he reached the bottom he felt himself become more and more at ease. The motion was therapeutic, something to ground his whirling thoughts. While they waited in line to grab a tray, Isaac stared pointedly at Jack’s hand in his pocket, then back up to his face. Jack had the grace to pull his hand out, but he could still feel the ghost letters against his thumb. 

_ SEATTLE, WA _

_ JACK.  _

 

\----------------

 

Two days later, Jack found himself waiting in line to board a bus that would take them to the middle of the good ol’ US of A. It was just after half past three in the morning, and Jack was annoyed and exhausted. He thought grimly to himself that if he ever had to see another bus in his life he’d rather burn it to the ground than travel in it. 

His group was ushered onto the second bus after the first one filled, and not long after the third of the transportation vehicles was ready. Jack looked out the window to make sure no one was left, and sure enough within moments their bus rumbled to life. At the very front of the bus, directly behind the driver’s seat was a woman wearing sunglasses and a grey pantsuit. She didn’t look at anyone as they passed her, and Isaac whispered behind him that she was probably from SEP. Jack said nothing, and she was quickly pushed from his mind once he was seated. They departed, and Jack slumped against the back of his seat. 

Isaac was next to him, taking the window seat. Cortez was paired with a woman Jack wasn’t familiar with, but they seemed to be getting along well. Jack looked over and Isaac had headphones in, plugged into the phones they were finally allowed to have. 

Their messages would be monitored they were told, as to keep the privacy of the program. Jack’s hands twitched, and there were so many things he wanted to say. 

Text his mother, tell her that he wouldn’t be around for awhile? She wouldn’t care. 

Message his dad, tell him that he misses spending time with him, playing baseball with his sisters and him? Missed the late-night conversations they would have on the back porch on the little swing they had attached there, drinking some store-bought lemonade while they talked about whatever came to mind? 

Finally respond to each of the unanswered novels his sisters had left him individually on his phone? The oldest of them—Marina—in particular was responsible for about half of his two hundred notifications. 

Jack realized then that his hands were trembling and his eyebrows were knitted so tight together that he feared his face would stick. His face was scrunched like he might cry and he coughed once to gain his composure. 

When he actually began going through everything it became a lot harder to hold back his emotions. 

Isaac was looking out the window, a hand on Jack’s thigh. A few times Jack looked up in a mild panic to make sure no one was watching him, but blessedly everyone was too busy doing whatever they were doing to notice him. 

The only time Isaac did glance over, Jack pretended like he didn’t notice and looked the other way. 

Once he was caught up in notifications from all his social media sites and games and emails and texts, next came the voicemails. He deleted every one that wasn’t from a family member or a friend, and even then he erased some of the ones he was no longer interested in listening to. He pressed his phone tightly to his ear, and clamped his hand over the other. Most of the calls were just little reminders that his family was missing him. Though his grandma did call him to curse him out for not wishing her happy birthday. Immediately following was an apology voicemail once she realized he wasn’t allowed to have his phone. He laughed and got rid of the messages as he went. 

All of them became standard until he pressed one to listen, expecting to hear the nasally voice of his youngest older sister Olivia—instead he was met with a deep friendly tone he hadn’t thought of in a long time. 

“ **Hey, Jack, it’s Tommy. Just wondering how you were doing. You’re probably in basic but I just…** ” The other end fell silent for a moment, and it sounded like Tommy cleared his throat. “ **Just wanted to see how you’re doing whenever you get the chance.** ”

There was a slight commotion on the other side of the phone, and the message ended with “ **Call me or text me or whatever. Bye.** ”

At the end of it, Jack still held his phone to his ear a beat longer than was necessary. 

He glanced to his side again, and Isaac’s chin rested on his slowly rising and falling chest. He took the time to send a quick text to each of his family members, just a quick  _ I’m doing fine and I miss you!  _ That he copy and pasted for each recipient. Jack stood then, a little unsteady, and made his way to the more sparse back of the bus. The vehicle was nearly full, but he could still see some empty rows of seats towards the very end. He held onto each arm rest as he passed, the other keeping him upright him against the overhead compartments. The way the bus swayed dangerously made his movements slow. 

He was nearly at the end of his journey when he glanced down and saw Gabriel gazing up at him. He startled, and dropped into the seat in the row across from his old instructor as a cover for almost falling flat on his face. It seemed like Washington was asleep in his chair.

“Hey,” he smiled at him, and he could almost see the hint of a returning grin. 

“You going to the bathroom?” Gabriel asked, and Jack shook his head. 

“Nah, just gonna make a couple quick calls. It’s quieter back here.” This time Gabriel bobbed his head, and they slid into an awkward silence. Jack patted his knees and looked back up at the other man. “How’ve you been?” 

Gabriel shifted, trying not to elbow his equally decent sized friend while he tried to get comfortable enough for a conversation. “Been alright. How was AIT?” 

“Pretty good.” At Reyes’s incredulous expression, Jack laughed. “Surprisingly, yeah I know. It wasn’t easy, I’ll say that much.” 

This time he received a slight rumble of a chuckle. He smiled wider at that. 

“You got the time? My phone’s in my back pocket.” He gestured to Jack’s cellphone in his hand, and Jack hurriedly pressed the lock button and showed what it read to Gabriel. His expression softened as he looked at Jack’s phone, and once the blonde realized why his face heated up. “That’s your family?” 

Jack cleared his throat with a single cough. Yeah. All seven of us.” Gabriel nodded once again. 

“I don’t have any siblings. Was just me, dad, mom and my grandmother in my house.” 

He snickered. “Don’t be jealous. Four sisters, my mom and only three bathrooms in the house was a nightmare. I’d get yelled at if it took more than ten minutes in the shower, but they could spend hours doing their hair and makeup n’ stuff so I couldn’t even brush my teeth.”

“Oh trust me, I’m not jealous. What are their names?” Jack was surprised. He didn’t figure Gabriel would care. After a slight pause he pulled up his phone again, held up one finger, and scrolled through his folder of family pictures until he found the one that was his lockscreen. He zoomed into his dad’s face and held it back up. 

“That’s my dad, Caden.” He moved the picture slightly until the frame rested on his mother’s face. “Mom, Abbey.” Again he repeated the motion. “My oldest sister Marina, then Ridley, Stephanie, and Olivia. We have a couple dogs too, but I could spend hours showing you their pictures.” He didn’t look at Gabriel as he locked his phone again, staring at his hands. 

“You’re the baby?” 

His face screwed up in disdain. “If you ask my mom she’ll tell you the dogs are her babies, but I’m the youngest kid, yes.” 

Gabriel whistled lowly. “That explains it then.” 

Jack blinked. “Explains what?” 

“Everything, really.” 

“Hey wh—” Gabriel cut him off with his laugh and a flap of his hand. 

“I’m just messing with you, Jackie.” His mirthful expression faded, but there was still a slight tilt to his lips. “You’ve got a beautiful family.” 

Again, Jack could feel his cheeks heat up. Gabriel’s dark eyes were just so warm. “Thanks…” He scratched at his hairline by his ear. “If you can ever get your phone out of your butt pocket I’d like to see yours. If you don’t mind that is.” Gabriel rolled his eyes. 

“Of course I don’t mind. I’m not in charge of you anymore. Just a second.” 

He grabbed ahold of the seat in front of him, and the woman Jack recognized as Nassar reached back and smacked his hands as Gabriel hauled himself up enough to snag his phone out. He hit her back, and she looked back and flipped him off. Jack smirked, and she offered him a peace sign before turning back around to face forward. 

Gabriel settled again, and muttered “Okay...Let’s see here…” Jack waited a few seconds before Gabriel let out a long breath of air triumphantly and offered Jack his phone. “You can see who’s who, but my dad’s David, mom’s Silvia, and abuela’s Raquel.” Jack stared for a bit longer and handed Gabriel back his phone.

“Your grandmother’s adorable, and the rest of you are cute too. Nice high school graduation picture, by the way.” Gabriel frowned. 

“It’s the only picture I’m not blinking in.” 

Jack laughed again, and glanced at his phone when it vibrated in his hand. “Shit, it’s my sister.”   
“Which one?” 

“Marina, the—” 

“Oldest, yep. You can get that, I’m not going anywhere.” Jack tried to let his gratefulness show on his face as he answered the call, standing and clambering back once again while she yelled in his ear about how much she missed her baby brother and how early it was. Jack laughed it off, and was handed the phone to each family member for at least a few seconds of time. Two of his sisters had to be woken up, and he felt bad since it was their break from college. However, this saved on his need to call each of them individually, and by the end of it he felt lighter and happier. 

He almost got up to make his move again before remembering Tommy’s voicemail. He chewed on his bottom lip for a bit in contemplation. 

In the end he bit the bullet and found the man’s number in his phone, quickly pressing the call button before he had time to fight himself on it. 

They hadn’t left each other on the best of terms. 

After the fifth ring, right before it would’ve gone to voicemail, Jack heard a breathless and ragged“ **Hello?** ”

His mouth went dry. After the second, much less confident “ **Hello?** ” he stammered out a response. 

“S-’sup?” He could’ve beaten himself to death for that, but was relieved when he heard Tommy snort on the other end. 

“ **Nothing much. It’s kind of only five in the morning. What’s going on with you?** ” 

“I’m, uh…” There was nothing really he could tell Tommy that wouldn’t raise questions. He certainly couldn’t tell him anything about where he was being transported. “Okay first off I’m sorry for waking you up. Like I really am. I’m...Just getting transferred.” That wasn’t enough. “For my first duty assignment.” 

“ **It’s fine. My alarm was going to go off in about five minutes anyway. Have to feed my neighbor’s cat and everything. And they let you have your phones for your transfer?** ” 

_ Shit.  _

“Don’t tell anyone,” he blurted out, and was rewarded with another chuckle. 

“ **I won’t, don’t worry.** ” 

Jack found a string at the end of his jacket and began tugging at it experimentally, wondering if the entire hem would unravel because of this one stray. He pulled and watched, dissatisfied as it did indeed rip off a portion of the border. 

“ **Jack?** ” Only then was he aware of the fact that Tommy was saying his name. 

“Oh. Sorry. What were you saying? It’s just kinda noisey on this bus.”

“ **I just wanted to know how basic and AIT went for you. You said you were nervous before you went in, remember?** ”

He hummed. “Yeah, I remember. It went well though. I think I did well for most of it, especially the shooting part. I got top of the class in combat trainin’? I don’t know how though. I sucked the entire time.” 

“ **That’s awesome, Jack!”** He shrugged before realizing that there was no way Tommy could see him. “ **Obviously you didn’t suck though.** ” Jack chuckled. 

“Oh, you have no idea. I literally had to get lessons every night from the drill instructor to even be decent. I almost got my nose broken at some point. Which, compared to Isaac almost breakin’ his finger was nothing but…” He trailed off and listened to the small intake of breath from the other end. 

“ **Who’s Isaac?** ” 

_ Double shit.  _

“He’s, um...My boyfriend I guess?” He spoke the last part quietly and was unsure if Tommy had even heard him. Jack sunk into his seat and lifted a knee to rest against the back of the seat in front of him. 

Instead of anything else he was expecting, Tommy laughed. “ **Already? Jesus you work fast. How long’s it been since I saw you? Don’t answer that actually, I already know. How long’s it been since you guys—uh—started dating?** ”

“Two months? Three? No, not three. Fuck, I don’t know, sorry.” Just, a while.” 

“ **I’m happy for you.”**

Jack whispered out a thanks and they were both quiet for a while. 

Eventually Tommy spoke again, changing the subject entirely. He told him about how he was doing, and how he got transferred somewhere else too just a few days ago. Jack congratulated him, and they talked for another few minutes before the call was abruptly cut off. Jack looked at his phone and grimaced at the lack of a signal. He shot off a text telling Tommy what had happened, and that he’d talk to him again soon. He received a reply not a minute later and read it before shutting his eyes and letting his head fall back. 

He stayed like that for a time, only jerking upright when he heard someone slip into the bathroom behind him. He got up and began making his way back to his seat, debating on whether or not to stop by anyone else to at least say hi. 

The choice was made for him when Gabriel called out his name just as he took a step past him. Jack slowly turned, keeping his feet firmly on the ground even as the bus hit a pothole in the road. 

“I’m sorry your family couldn’t come see you for your graduation by the way.” 

Now that was an open wound Jack had been ignoring. “It’s fine. I’ll just give them grief when I see them next.” His grin was tooth and a little sad, which is probably why Gabriel’s eyes were full of pity. 

Someone else on the bus nearly tripped Jack as he moved past on accident, and the way the bus lurched when he tried to regain his footing made him stumble once again. It wasn’t serious, but he was nearly dead when he got back to his seat. 

Isaac was blinking blearily as Jack sat, and yawned. “You gonna try and sleep?” Jack nodded, and Isaac shifted, pulling up the arm rest between them so yet again Jack could rest on him. The pink neck pillow around him looked ridiculous, but his hardly awake face was adorable. Jack twisted his body, knees pouring out into the aisles as he leaned back and set his head on Isaac’s legs. Isaac rested his hand on Jack’s chest and in mere seconds was asleep. 

Jack didn’t feel too badly about keeping his feet partially in the way. The bus was rapidly calming down, with more people asleep than awake at this point. Besides that, there was certainly enough room to get around him. He was exhausted and he just didn’t care. 

Cortez across from him leaned over to pat him on the knee and nestled back into her spot. Jack shut his eyes and didn’t open them again for three hours. 

There was someone struggling to get past him and Nassar’s head and elbows in the aisle. Jack sat up and adjusted himself so that he was pressed to Isaac’s side and back of his head on the rough material of the bus seat. 

Again, it mattered not to him how awkward the position was as he passed out once more—this time waking up for the lunch stop. They’d called ahead to a remote sandwich shop, and everyone was given the same ham, turkey or roast beef sandwich loaded with lettuce, pickles and tomatoes. There were little packets of mayo and mustard that were thrown into a bag along with a bag of chips and a cookie. They were allowed to go in and grab a drink with their meal, but the bus was leaving again in fifteen minutes. 

He ran in with a couple other people to grab drinks for their section of the bus, and when he came out his arms were loaded with Cokes and a couple water bottles. He distributed them as he passed, and fell back into his seat wearily, just barely missing flattening his meal with his ass. He reached back behind him and brought it before him, reaching in to grab his cookie before anything else. Isaac plucked the drink he’d asked for out of Jack’s lap and cracked it open, taking a long swig before thanking him. 

The cookie was so soft and warm that Jack could’ve moaned if he didn’t stop himself. The sandwiches were made with real deli meats and veggies, and was the best thing Jack had had since he started basic training. He’d forgotten what meals were like when they weren’t frozen and thawed right before serving. 

When he was done he threw his wrappers into the bag and rolled it up. He slammed half of his Coke and put the cap back on before tucking it into the pouch sewn into the back of the seat in front of him. 

Cortez was talking to her parents on the phone in Portuguese, the few words Jack knew of it being thrown in sparsely. She caught him staring and winked, mouthing that one of her relatives had gone back to Brazil, though he didn’t catch who. 

Isaac was still chewing and drinking slowly, staring at his tablet. He too could feel Jack’s eyes on him and stuck out his tongue playfully, chuckling when Jack did the same. 

At least everyone was awake or getting there by then. 

Jack wished they were just allowed to go in a plane, but he supposed that a bus full of Army patrons and a few backwater areas was less conspicuous than a horde of them being seen in a busy airport. 

Cortez started the question game, and it kept them occupied for the next hour. 

Eventually they got bored and migrated to their phones before someone else produced a pack of cards. The next two hours were full of them shouting at each other for cheating in Old Maid or Go Fish or Blackjack or whatever the hell else they decided on doing. Jack won a handful of games, Isaac leaving him a peck on the neck each time. 

Several hours to go and they pulled over for dinner. 

This time a restaurant had been booked, and they were the only patrons allowed in. Only the owners of the place were there, an elderly couple who were more than happy to bring out sodas and waters without even needing to be asked. Dinner for the night was the choice between a salad (caesar or chicken caesar), meat lasagna or cheese lasagna. Jack and his group were seated closely to Gabriel’s, and Jack locked eyes more than once with the older man while they were there. An hour later they were told to wash up or use the bathroom if needed, then they were getting back on the road. 

According to one of the drill instructors up front, they were almost two-thirds of the way between Seattle and wherever their destination was.

Their late dinner marked the time where nearly everyone was dead silence once more. Isaac and Jack watched a movie on Isaac’s tablet, and Jack found himself nearly drooling on Isaac’s shoulder when it was done, tired as he was. 

At nine that night they dimmed the lights, and only quiet conversations were had. Around ten thirty that night Jack fell half asleep. It wasn’t much later when someone brushed past him on their way down the aisle and he was taken out of his reverie. He whined quietly and whoever it was apologized. 

Jack tried to fall asleep again after that, and was unable to. Everyone around him was slumbering and he grew more and more irritated the longer he tried to rest. 

Each time he found himself close to unconsciousness, there was some noise that startled him, or someone that felt the need to get too close to his personal space. He’d reached the point of discomfort and fatigue that he could feel his skin crawling and temper rising. If he stayed where he was any longer he was sure to snap at the next person that crossed him, so he rose and grabbed his phone.

He figured he could get to the back of the bus once more and sit by a window. Even if his mind wouldn’t allow him the peacefulness of sleep, he could rest his forehead against the cold window. He hauled himself up and hurried to an empty area. 

There was only one row that he could find with no one in it. As the trip had progressed, more and more people spread out, taking up nearly available space they could. Jack was lucky to have found the one he did. He swung into it and pressed his back against the wall, delighting in the chill that went through him. 

Washington had seen him move, and Jack offered a small wave. The other man slid over to the aisle seat and motioned for Jack to come closer. He did so—regrettably—and leaned in. 

“Listen, you know we’re picking teams, correct?” 

“Yes, sir.” 

“You can drop the ‘sir’ for now,” Washington grumbled. 

Cheekily, Jack replied, “Yes, sir. Sorry, sir.” 

“Knock it off,” he was told, and he did so. Washington began again, this time uninterrupted by Jack. “I just want you to know that there’s two spots on my platoon for you and Isaac, if you both want them.” 

Sulkily, Jack asked, “You know we’re—” 

“Dating? Yes. I’m telling you this because you’re good soldiers, and I trust that you can do this  _ professionally.  _ Am I right in assuming that?” Jack bobbed his head quickly. “Good. Tell him that he’s welcome. If you guys do decide to join you’ll need to go back to the ‘sir’ thing probably.” 

Jack snickered. “Yes, sir.” 

“Shut up.” Washington tried and failed to his his amusement from Jack. “You hanging back here for now?” 

“For now, yeah. I was getting too annoyed up there, and at least no one’s going to bump into me here.” 

“Good plan. There’s blankets and pillows in the overhead compartments if you want them,” he ended, and arranged himself so that he was back in his original place and huddled into the far corner. Jack worked up the energy to follow through with getting the items that he was told about. It took a lot of maneuvering, and a lot of expended anger, but Jack finally got himself so that once again he was up against the wall of the bus, facing out towards the aisle. His knees were pulled up partially to his chest, and once he had seen others on the bus doing it, he took off his shoes too. The pillow supported his neck rather than his head, but it was fine. The blanket was scratchy but warm, and eventually Jack was able to sleep. 

When he woke, it was a foggy grey outside. He didn’t know when Gabriel had made it back to his seat, but there he was in the row ahead and across, next to Washington and dozing. Jack made his way back to Isaac, who Jack was envious to find was still conked out. He worked himself back into his place, and waited until everyone else began to wake up for breakfast. 

From then on, the last handful of hours until their destination was torture. Everyone was cramped and tired and tired of being cramped. 

They made one more brief stop before they arrived. Jack had to be gently shaken to get up. Once off the bus, everyone that had come from their base stood in one large group, waiting.

Two men in ugly grey suits came out of a large compound to greet them. 

Few pleasantries were exchanged between them and the three SEP members that had traveled on each bus. The five of them led their group to several sets of barracks, listing off those who would be in each room, allowing them five minutes to drop off their things in an empty bunk, and move on. They were told that these were temporary living situations, and that after the first few weeks they would be moved to a more permanent rooms during their times there. 

Isaac was placed the room before Jack, something the blonde had mixed feelings about. 

After everyone was situated, the men were led to a room with long rows of barber shop seats. Jack inwardly groaned. They were made to sit until the chairs were filled, and as soon as one freed up the next person in line would take their place until everyone was freshly shaven. 

When it was Jack’s turn, he sat rigid and annoyed as the black cape was clasped behind his neck. He heard the buzz of the razor and sighed. He didn’t look in the mirror at all, knowing he would be disappointed with what he saw. Instead he watched with morbid dissatisfaction as the couple inches of blonde locks he’d grown fell around him. His hair was finally at a length he was alright with, and now it was all gone. Replaced with white peach fuzz and a scowl on his face. 

He managed to get over it in time for the short tour, which was merely them being shown the mess hall and told its operation hours, and to be there the next morning at o’ seven hundred sharp. They were also told to make peace with their electronic devices, as they would be replaced with SEP issued technology upon arrival in the dining area. There was a quiet grumble from their group that was quickly silenced. 

Other than that, they were allowed to explore the area as much as they would like for the first day. One guy asked where they were, and was told very simply, “New Mexico.” 

“Are we in Area 51?” 

“If that’s what you want to believe, sure.” 

They were dismissed, and Jack found himself unsure of what to do. His group found each other, and it was quickly decided that they would go in search of a rec room. They paired up, exchanged phone numbers, and left.

Isaac was with Jack, and together they left the hall and took a left, trudging down the long hallway. The other man was muttering something about them getting lost, and Jack cut him off partially accidentally. “So, Washington asked me something earlier. When we were on the bus.” 

“Yeah?” 

“Well, I guess it was less of a question and more of an offer?” 

“Spit it out,” Isaac said, bumping into Jack with a little laugh, just enough for him to feel. 

“He said he wanted us for his team. I mean, we don’t have to if you don’t want to. But I like him, you know?” 

“I like him too. Do you really want to?” 

Jack thought about it, moving his feel along slowly. “Yeah, I think so. I wonder if there’s other options, but as of right now he’s the only one that’s—” Jack held up one finger. “—A, offered. And B—” his middle finger shot up to join his index. “—that we actually know. So if he’s willing to take both of us I don’t see why not.” 

“Alright. Let’s do it.” 

“Are you serious?” 

“Yes. If you’re in, I’m in.” 

He hadn’t realized that he’d stopped in the hallway until Isaac was already several feet in front of him. Jack caught up with a few hurried strides and kept pace. 

Despite the fact that they had a plan now, Jack couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off. There was nothing he could do about it now, and tomorrow they’d be starting some process they had no idea about. 

Both he and Isaac received a text that the rec room had been located. Isaac smacked his chest and together they followed the meager directions that they were given. Whatever he was feeling was pushed to the back of his mind as they went, to be ignored for as long as he could manage. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WELL! it's officially the one year anniversary of boiling point! she's a whole year old folks
> 
> i'd just like 2 say that im so so sorry for how long this took. school was suckin the life out of me but now that i'm back in the swing of things it should be easier to write. or so i hope. i missed writing tho, and its definitely not dead or abandoned!
> 
> as always u can find me on [tumblr](http://whillowed.tumblr.com/) and [twitter](https://twitter.com/maxalackin)!! ask me anything, send comments, or whatever u want! feel free 2 follow for updates or if u wanna be mutuals lol. for your listening pleasure iridian and i have a really good [spotify playlist](https://open.spotify.com/user/22ohf35fkcwkxrtd7vygohata/playlist/3cLNB4KHtJBdPUhe5gbEPC) so u should def check it out !! see u guys next update!


	10. Steam (Part 1)

All around him were hospital beds full of other patients. Some were getting physical examinations, or having saliva samples taken, shit like that. From halfway across the room Gabriel could hear one man getting angry at a nurse—his face, neck, and arms red and blotchy from where they showed underneath his stained white shirt.

Gabriel swore quietly as the woman attending him stuck him in the arm with a needle for the second time that day.

“Sorry, Mr. Reyes. The first blood sample we took earlier was insufficient. We just need to fill two more vials and you can be done for today.”

“Yeah, whatever,” he replied sullenly. He was too tired to argue. Each day they took something away from him, poked and prodded and gave him little empty, sterile cups every time he needed to use the bathroom. Then at the end of the day the doctors gave everyone some type of disgusting protein shake that replenished them, and started all over again the next morning. Why would he have expected any different today?

As soon as the needle was removed and the bandage placed over it, Gabriel rubbed the sore area around the mark. He hung his head and waited until the all-clear signal was given before hopping off the hospital bed and leaving.

There were others in that room that looked far worse off than him.

Within two days at their new base, they were told exactly what SEP stood for, and what it entailed.

Soldier Enhancement Program. A year long experimental program that was first issued by the U.S. government. As long as they were there, they weren’t allowed to speak of it to outsiders, contact news outlets, or do anything that would give away anything about the place to anyone. As far as those in charge were concerned, any unlucky bastards caught breaking those rules would be _dealt with._ As far as the participants were concerned, no one cared to find out what that meant.

The day after arrival—as promised—any electronic devices were confiscated. Even Gabriel’s Army-issued tablet was taken. However, to SEP’s credit, everything they lost was replaced. In most cases, the term ‘and then some’ could be applied.

Everyone received one standard cellphone, one standard holopad tablet, and one standard electronic watch that came pre-programmed to receive text messages and the like from the other two items. The watches were optional, of course, but Gabriel fancied his. He didn’t use it to view any emails or messages, but the bright display numbers on it looked rather classy.

Neither the tablets nor phones were able to download any social media. Video streaming sites were allowed, but each device was logged into the same account, and no comments could be added to anything, nor could any messages be sent or delivered. The web browsers that came equipped were not unlike any normal browsers, however these blocked the same social media spheres that they were not allowed to download.

Their cell phone data, pictures, and information could be transferred over to the new ones quite easily. Simply hook up the sharing inputs, and anything that wasn’t blocked was allowed over. Gabriel was particularly satisfied when his games made the move over.

Other than that, they were allowed to talk to whoever they chose. Calls weren’t limited, and neither were texts. However there was always a slight delay as each of the messages were sent to the main tower at the base, digitally analyzed for anything that needed to be censored, and _then_ they were delivered. The process only took a few extra seconds, but it definitely made Gabriel a little uneasy.

In addition to every message sent out being reviewed, their calls were all monitored. No one knew who was listening in on their conversations, but they were assured that someone was indeed keeping track of each word that was spoken. For some this deterred phone sex between loved ones, but if the one man Gabriel heard moaning in the bathroom was any indication, this detail could be overlooked in dire situations.

Overall, none of this was terribly different. For those who had just graduated basic training this was a blessing, but for him and others in similar positions, it was nothing new.

The atmosphere on base was a different story.

When everyone arrived, they were decked out in the military gear they had been assigned before they left. After reaching their destination, their uniforms were taken temporarily from them, and multiple pairs of sweatpants and shirts, t-shirts, tank tops, and one pair of boots and tennis shoes were supplied. If needed, underwear could be provided, but for the most part everyone seemed to have brought their own. Still, that first day there already marked the beginning of cliques forming. If one day wasn’t enough to see exactly who was from the Army, or Marines, or Air Force, the way everyone bragged about one section or another certainly was.

A small fight broke out between a Navy officer and a Coast Guard grunt, but was broken up almost instantaneously by their respective friends dragging them away from each other. What the fight was about Gabriel had no idea, but he vowed then and there that he would never try to stir up trouble while he was there.

This was a feat that proved to be marginally simple. He kept his head down, refused to engage in any taunts or banter that could turn south, and stayed close to the friends he had come in with.

Not getting into fights with incompetent doctors on the other hand seemed to be a slightly more difficult task.

It appeared as though each day there was something that went wrong. The first day of testing he was pricked with a needle three times in the arm before the nurse finally found a vein that she could draw blood from. He grit his teeth and bore it. The second day the medical assistant was so condescending about him simply peeing in a cup he had to bite down the urge to yell at her for it. The third day he was nearly stabbed in the side of the face with the otoscope. That one he did growl at.

After that it became a bit harder for him to find the energy for him to get as wiled up during the examinations, though he did very much want to snap at _somebody_.

He wasn’t the only one who felt that way apparently.

Someone who had been there for far longer than most of them had to be restrained and carted out of the med bay one day, kicking and screaming about how he couldn’t take it anymore. Gabriel never saw him again, though he hadn’t seen him prior to that incident. He wanted to hope that was a coincidence. The rumors about the instance certainly didn’t help with his trying to remain positive.

Despite how grueling the testing was, that first week went by quickly. There was no time to debate whether or not he missed their old base. Instead he had to follow SEP’s regimine to the letter. He sincerely doubted there would be serious repercussions if he was a few minutes late to an appointment with the doctors, but he also didn’t have any desire to find out.

And so the first week passed.

Gabriel couldn't count the amount of times he had been pricked and stabbed, but according to the superiors there, that part was over. They were given a day off to rest after that. He was relieved, if only for an instant.

According to the superiors there, the fun part was only beginning.

The ninth day after their arrival, none other than the woman who had first talked to them about the program gathered them all in front of a stage, and she stood there tall and dominating. Her glasses were perched on her nose, and her ugly grey pantsuit was immaculate as ever. Gabriel found he had almost missed her. There was something that could be said about the respect she garnered just by being present.

Stand there she did, and within seconds of being rounded up, the group of them fell silent. It seemed her reputation had reached beyond their Seattle base. She cleared her throat and began speaking.

“You may recognize me from all the interviews to be accepted into this program. You don’t need to know my real name, but you can refer to me as ‘Zombie’ if you must refer to me at all. If you don’t know me, that is either a failure on our end, or you have a poor memory. It doesn’t matter either way. If you are here and have made it this far, congratulations. That means that now not only are you apart of our family—so to speak—you are about to start the actual preparation to become a Super Soldier.” There were quiet murmurs for a few seconds, but they quickly ceased.

“What does this entail, you might ask? Well I won’t sugarcoat it. It will be the hardest thing you’ve ever had to undergo in your lives. During the next few months you will be injected, tested, experimented on, monitored, pushed to your absolute limits. And then you will be pushed _far_ past them.

“We know the risks. We’ve all done it. Every doctor here, every nurse, even the god-damned janitors have been through this process. You are not alone here. There are times where it may not seem like it, but we are here to help. We are here to guide and keep you safe. But sometimes we can’t cut it, I understand this. That is where you rely on your fellow inductees. If we seem heartless and unsympathetic at times, look to your fellow recruit. Complain to them about what a bitch I am, I couldn’t care less. You are here though, and here you will stay unless you screw it up.

“What you will be receiving in your bodies is a tried and true serum that will only enhance your abilities. It won’t give you any superpowers, but you will be faster, stronger. Some of you idiots might see a spike in your intelligence and reaction times. These perks will not come right away. You will suffer and you will hate it before then. Trust me though, when all is said and done you will have talents you never even dreamed of.”

Gabriel had to commend her on her public speaking. Not only was she persuasive in one-on-one talks, but she had everyone before her hung on every word. She had a way of making you feel like you were nothing, and at the same time like you were something greater.

“It’s not for everyone. If it becomes too much for you, you will be ejected from the program. There are some serious risks, but there always are with new medicine. Not everyone you see here will be with you when the injections and testing are complete. _You_ might not even be here to see the end of it. But know this—if you make it, if you are strong enough to survive the journey ahead of you—you will be apart of something so much greater than you could have ever imagined.” She paused for a moment, and the room was completely silent. No one dare say a word even if there was something they could say. She inhaled sharply and finished with, “Talk to your doctors if you have questions. You’re dismissed.”

 

\----------------

 

 _Zombie_ as it turned out, was the nickname of one Myra Chance. Gabriel found this out by snooping through the files of the SEP staff and asking some of the other members of the program. This nickname arose from the fact that she had technically been dead three times, but kept coming back. She—of course—was strictly human, but damn was as scary as those old horror movies—the good ones at least.

He asked if she had any friends once, and was met with one of the officers laughing in his face. “Sweetie, she doesn’t do friends.” He learned not to ask much about her after that.

The first injection that they were given turned out to be much like the serum they had first received. The only difference was that this one was more of a green color as it entered their veins, and would last a lot longer. The side effects were lesser from the first time if the fact that hardly anyone was lying prone in bed waiting to die this time around.

Still, they were given the next day to recover from it.

This is the day that Gabriel found himself thinking about Rosita.

After all the time she had ignored everyone else, Gabriel was finally able to corner her. She looked even worse than when he had first seen her, and she confessed that she hadn’t been sleeping or eating much. He wanted to drill her on why she was doing this to herself, but she got to the point first.

She told him that she was trying to find out more information on the SEP. Gabriel opened his mouth to blurt out something he was sure he’d regret later. Something along the lines of _are you stupid? Leave it alone._ Thankfully she cut him off before he had even begun. She told him that she’d spent hours asking everyone that she could think of if they knew anything. She was told each time that they had no idea what she was talking about, or to shut up and get her nose out of it. Gabriel was inclined to agree with the latter, but she wasn’t finished.

Rosita talked about how she broke into the records office and found nothing. The sergeant whose office it was found _her_ however, and she was punished severely. Gabriel shot off the obvious question of _what did they make you do?_ She ignored this. Since then she had hit dead end after dead end. There was nothing left for her to investigate and she knew it.

So she had played the last card she could. “Gabriel. Gabrielito, if you care about our friendship at all. At fucking _all,_ you’ll tell me what’s going on. Just give me a hint, _please._ I-I can’t do this alone. I’m not the only one asking around either. I’m not the only one being kept in the dark about this shit. I’m not the only one who _knows_ that something is going on. Reyes, please.”

Looking into her eyes, Gabriel could tell that if she had one wish in the world, this would be it—just to know. Something, anything he could tell her.

Which is why it broke his heart when he choked out the words, “I can’t, Rosie. I can’t I’m so sorry.” His voice had cracked, and she had snarled at him. “We’re leaving soon, come on. Just come out with us the last few days we’re here. I don’t know if we’ll see each other again after this. We miss you, Rosita.”

His words fell on deaf ears. She sucked in a large breath and stumbled over the first letter of numerous words that she wanted to say. He could tell that there were a million things she wanted to tell him, and he was content to just listen.

Instead she shut her mouth and whirled around, storming off. He called after her once, and only once. He knew she wouldn’t listen to him if he tried again.

After that they didn’t see her. For their last days on base she stayed out of sight—or at least out of theirs. He felt so guilty, but there was nothing he could do.

Now he sat in a plush leather chair that resided in the rec room, and tried his best not to let his sorrowful expression show. If any of the rest of the people in the room noticed, not a single one of them said anything. He was grateful for that.

Though he knew there was no point in wallowing in the miserable memories, he was unable to focus on anything else for a time. The entire day the thoughts of both of their last words haunted him. He didn’t go to dinner that night, merely sat in his room and tried in vain to sleep off the creeping depression.

Gabriel hated the bunks that he was forced to stay in. He had spent so long in his own private room that being forced to share a dormitory with so many other men was starting to drive him mad.

Because their schedules were so inane, he was never completely alone there. There was always at least one other jackass in there with him. Many of them tried their best to be considerate. No loud conversations in person, and any phone calls were held outside the place. There was the occasional jerk that refused to adhere to social standards, but they were rare. The worst of the men snored in their sleep, and even that Gabriel could hardly stand.

Nothing was all bad here.

Everything was new and refurbished. All the furniture was comfortable, and the mattresses in their bunks were recently bought, the sheets they slept in were soft and clean. The facilities had over twice the amount of urinals and toilet stalls that their old base did, and the food was undeniably better than back in Seattle.

He could’ve easily grown accustomed to the place if it weren’t for the increasingly difficult testing. That, he admitted, was going to be exactly how they referred to it previously.

Hell.

One day after the initial monitoring serum they were injected with, the real fun began. They were carted into the hospital room by droves, the groups beginning and ending at the same time so they could be shooed out and the next group allowed in. Once they were pumped full of whatever they were calling this miracle of science, they were escorted into another part of the medical wing and permitted to stay in there for however long they needed.

Some people were already looking green, and Gabriel watched with displeasure as a few of them lost their lunches in the pails provided by their bedsides.

After a while, Gabriel felt fine enough to leave. There was some nausea in the beginning, but it was gone and replaced with the desire to get the hell out of that room for the day.

Gabriel stood up out of the bed and immediately realized he was not _fine._ His world went dark for a few seconds, and when he could finally blink his eyes open he realized he was half lying on the bed, and half being supported by his sore leg that somehow managed to lock at the knee instead of buckle. He felt the skin around his jaw tighten, and he realized that he had drooled something awful in the time he had checked out. He wiped his mouth off and turned so that his stomach was pressed against the mattress.

Slowly he worked himself upright and standing, though his head was swimming.

 _This is bad, this is very bad_ he repeated to himself in his head over and over—followed by the correction he made, _no it’s not, shut up. You’re fine. It’s good, you’re okay. Move your feet, dumbass._ And like that he let go of the bed railing. He wobbled, managed to remain upright, and began walking.

His steps were as slow as they were sloppy, but there was no way he could stop.

If he stopped, he wouldn’t be able to keep moving again.

There were a few people that waved hi to him as he made his way back to his room, but he couldn’t do as much as lift his head to acknowledge that he’d heard them. He stopped by the bathroom briefly. Wash the bile taste out of his mouth, piss, and grab ahold of the sink while he washed his hands, letting the dark granite tops support him when his vision went dark again. He didn’t pass out this time, but he did need to shut his eyes, squeeze, and then slowly open them before the fuzziness left his sight. He finished rinsing the soap off his hands and forced himself to look up in the mirror.

What he saw was even worse than he had imagined.

His eyes were dark-bagged and his pupils blown. The scar on top his head looked redder and angrier than he ever remembered it being. Then again, that could be just because his skin was so _so_ pale. He was almost tempted to prick his finger just to make sure they hadn’t drained all his blood. He shook his head, immediately regretting the motion when the resounding agony made itself apparent. He made himself take several steadying breaths before pushing his weight back to his feet and awkwardly shuffling back to his bed.

A person that he assumed to be a sergeant here started berating him as soon as he got back to the room, but his head was throbbing too hard, and the blood rushing through his ears too loudly for him to make a lick of sense of what the other man said.

Instead of responding, he just dropped like a sack of bricks into his bed, and did not make another movement until the next morning.

They were woken up by the usual alarm, but this time it went off an hour later than it normally did. Gabriel peeled himself from the sheets, and realized that he had sweat through them. As he looked around, he noticed that there were only half the men that there usually were in his barracks. The half that were there looked about as good as he was feeling.

Gabriel took a long whiff of the air, and hated the stink that seemed to be wafting off himself. It must’ve been especially bad if he himself had noticed it, but a quick check revealed the smell to just be the fact that he marinated in his own body odor for nearly twenty hours. He still had another hour or so before they were expected to report in for the next dosage, so he collected his sheets and dumped them into the laundry bin before grabbing a clean change of clothes and towel so he could go shower.

He gave himself a preliminary check as he rinsed off, moderately pleased with what he found. The lightheadedness that had nearly felled him yesterday was gone, and the excruciating migraine that made his brain feel like it was melting had dulled to just a slightly uncomfortable headache.

That was just the first day.

The week following their first injections led to similar symptoms from Gabriel. There were times where he could manage to haul himself back to his bed and leave the sheets filthy, to be replaced by the afternoon. Then there were times where there was zero possibility of him leaving the hospital bed that they stuck him in. Rows upon rows were filled with men and women in the same position.

Mercifully, the injections were not an everyday occurance. Merely every two days were they pricked and given that fucking serum. It was very much made clear that their bodies tried their best to reject the changes that were happening within them. There was one day that Gabriel saw a man with the same disgusting green fluid coming out the hole he’d been stabbed in. The shit coming out was larger than the needle hole, and the skin around it looked swollen and red and irritated. He kept scratching at it, smearing the stuff on his arm and fingers. There was blood that came out with the serum sometimes, and though eventually the serum dried and left only a filmy clear residue, the blood stayed and crusted.

It took half the day for this to stop.

Gabriel could’ve looked away. He could’ve looked away easily, but he didn’t. There was nothing else for him to do, and he was unable tear his eyes away from that man. He prayed that the same wouldn’t happen to him.

He had to spend the night in the hospital room. He couldn’t fall asleep until he was given medication by a nurse, and come the next morning the man he’d seen was gone. The girl next to him blearily muttered that he’d been carted away so that his arm could be amputated, but the nurse attending her cut her off sharply. _Don’t lie to them, that’s not true._ She looked up to Gabriel and smiled calmly. _It’s not true, he’s fine. He just had to get it cleaned up._

Since there was no way of knowing the truth, Gabriel pushed it from his mind.

The doctors that gave him these vile injections, the nurses that brought them into the recoup-room, and the ladies that brought him vanilla pudding cups, crackers, and Ginger Ale were the only human interactions that he could remember having in days. There were no signs of his friends, or anyone else that had transferred in from Seattle’s Army base.

Yet there was no time to mourn this. He only had time to force the meager rations they were given down his throat and chase it with a swig of soft drink so he didn’t regurgitate it immediately. Either that or curl up on his side and try to ignore the subtle tears that slid down his cheeks. He didn’t want to cry, but the pain in his sinuses triggered his tear ducts to betray him.

It wasn’t just his sinuses that hurt. His whole head, his shoulders, his neck, his entire _body_ never ceased to ache.

By chance, he managed to catch a glimpse of a calendar,  and only then did he piece together that they had been doing this for seven days now.

On the seventh day they were woken up an hour late again, though it had happened every day since they started the injections. Gabriel supposed that this hour was the new normal for them.

Whatever, it didn’t matter much.

There was a change of plans, as instead of being ordered to report to the med bay for the day, they were supposed to go to the mess hall for breakfast. That is, if they could manage. If not, they were not to move from bed.

As it turned out, if you could make it back to the barracks that already meant that you were doing better than most everyone. Even though they were given the sort-of go-ahead to sleep if they needed it, they were all curious enough to drag their bodies to the other part of base. Gabriel grabbed a tray that only had plain toast and a few grapes, and he grabbed a single serving carton of orange juice before sliding into a table.

He waited—along with everyone in the room—to see what was going to be going on. In truth, he didn’t know if there _was_ going to be anything, but he figured there was at least an announcement that was supposed to be given. Otherwise why make them come all the way down here?

So they waited.

Eventually Washington managed to find him. His dark skin had managed to retain its color, unlike Gabriel’s sickly ass. Looking closer though, Gabriel could see that Washington’s cheeks had begun to ever-so-slightly sink in. The whites of his eyes were starting to turn to an almost beige color, and unchecked could lead to jaundice. The large man’s hands trembled slightly as he struggled to open a packet of fruit slices, and Gabriel snagged the plastic from him. He could tell that Washington was going to argue about being able to do it himself, but Gabriel covered by stealing the smallest slice in the bag and popping it in his mouth. He grinned cheekily and his old fellow drill instructor managed a small chuckle. It was something.

Gabriel opened his orange juice and took a sip, though as soon as it went down he regretted it. The acidity of it did not mix well with his already upset stomach, and he had to force down the dry heave that wanted to make its way out.

Washington clapped him on the back.

Still, they kept waiting for something and Dabney entered the room. She looked around for a few seconds, and Gabriel let out a strangled whoop to try and get her attention. His voice failed him the first time, but the second time he managed a yelp that at least got her gaze in their direction. He waved his arms and finally they managed to lock eyes. She hurried over and settled next to them. Her hair was a mess and her eyes looked even worse than Washington’s. She had a sweater around herself, clutching at the edges of it so she could cradle herself better. Gabriel slipped an arm around her and dragged her into his increased body heat.

If she minded the fact that he had already began sweating through his shirt, she said absolutely nothing. She merely huddled against him and tried to talk through chattering teeth.

Thankfully, her chills subsided, and she was able to draw away and sit upright, though her sweater was still pulled taught. Nassar located them, and she surprisingly looked somewhat decent. The tell-tale signs of fatigue were still there, and she looked a bit greener than Gabriel remembered, but she still seemed okay. He was happy for her, and more than a little jealous.

As if the room weren’t full enough already, more and more people began pouring in. The seats were quickly completely taken up, and so people stood. It was most definitely a fire hazard, but even if Gabriel had the energy to care he wouldn’t.

The amount of people in the room was apparently deemed satisfactory enough for a woman in a grey pantsuit to step up on stage, microphone in hand.

 _Surely,_ Gabriel thought, _there must be a better stage area in this giant compound for meetings than this._ He was about to ask if the others had even seen an auditorium or something when she began speaking.

Her voice was a lot kinder and softer than Zombie’s, but still had an authoritative lift to it. Less of a _don’t fuck with me_ vibe and more a _respect me because I respect you_ tone. It was pleasant. “Well, first off, thank you to everyone who could make it here in such short notice.” Gabriel would’ve begged to differ, as a quick glance at his phone revealed that he had been sitting there for at least forty-five minutes. “Also quick kudos are in order for everyone who could actually be here this morning. When I was in your place I couldn’t get out of bed the whole time.” There were a few laughs in the audience, enough so that her quip didn’t feel wasted.

“I have a couple announcements here today. One being that it is Audrey in the cafeteria staff’s birthday! Congratulations, Audrey!” Polite clapping followed her words. She cleared her throat and went on. “The next is that there _is_ another batch of recruits coming in in just a short while. So, very soon, you will all be getting new people in your barracks. Play nice, please.” Gabriel shut his eyes for a few seconds so that the annoyance didn’t make itself apparent on his face. It was getting harder and harder for him lately to not snap at anyone or completely ruin his reputation as a laid back guy by acting like an absolute asshole.

“The last thing is that everyone who has been in the program for a week receiving injections is going to get the next week off!” She tried to say something after that, but while she inhaled the rest of them took it as an opportunity to erupt in cheers. She smiled patiently, and within a few moments the crowd settled down.

“Final group selections are coming up soon. So if you haven’t locked down your teammates, please do so immediately. Those who are not in charge of a squad will need to sign agreements or file for a transfer pretty soon too.” She took a quick peek at her clipboard and turned back up. “Alright, a week from today you’ll be told to meet back here for a quick briefing before the injections further. Enjoy your time off, everyone!” She quickly exited the stage, and immediately the room lit up with animation once more.

Gabriel found himself relieving tension he hadn’t even realized he’d stored. It almost hurt to unpinch his eyebrows, and his shoulders were sore. But god he was ecstatic.

The first few days were uneventful. Gabriel spent as much of his time sleeping as he could, and as soon as his appetite returned on the second day sans-testing, he found he could only stop shoving food into his face once he realized that he’d eaten four sandwiches, three trayfuls of french fries and chicken tenders. He was still hungry each time he went up to get more. He blamed it on the fact that he’d had approximately one full meal the entire last week.

Finally on the fourth day, he found himself resting against a wall outside the building that—thus far—they hadn’t left. It wasn’t that they weren’t allowed to leave, it was just so damn _big_ that there was no reason to. Besides that, who had the energy to get anywhere else?

He hadn’t thought about it when he felt like he was dying since arrival, but he hadn’t felt or inhaled fresh air in a disgusting amount of time.

So, there he was in the horribly chilly morning climate. His phone told him that it was forty degrees, but to a Los Angeles born and bred man, that was about twenty degrees below any sort of reasonable temperature. He was wrapped up in a sweatshirt, undershirt and pants, his boot laces tied only around his ankles. Still, he shivered every few minutes, the block against his back doing little to keep him warm. He wished that he’d brought another jacket or something, but it was too late. He had a nice hoodie with the SEP logo printed right on the left breast right at the end of his bed that he—stupidly—decided he didn’t need. Thankfully, the dress code here was a thousand times more relaxed than back in Seattle. Most likely due to the fact that some people walked around with dried vomit on their collars and an absent look in their eyes.

_Breathe in, breathe out._

His lungs welcomed the crispness of the air, and it woke him up better than any cup of coffee ever had. He leaned his head back against the cement wall and closed his eyes, a pleased little smile gracing his lips.

For a long time he did not move. He could hear birds chirping around him, and far off in the distance he could hear the noises that accompanied an entire base full of people. There were a few open windows around the compound, and he could occasionally make out tiny bits of conversations that were perhaps louder than they needed to be.

Eventually he startled when he could feel someone slide next to him, and when his eyes flew open, he was greeted with Washington crossing his long legs and sighing loudly.

“Jesus, you scared the shit out of me.”

“Sorry,” he said non-committedly.

As with everything about the other man, conversation would happen when he wanted it to. Gabriel ran his fingers through the dampened grass and waited.

After a few minutes, Washington finally spoke up. Rather, he tried, his voice failing him the first time. He coughed, and began again. “Nassar has been hounding me asking who I picked for my group.”

Gabriel paused to see if there was more to that, but when he realized there wasn’t, he shrugged. “Not surprising. Did you tell her?”

“Yeah, not like it’s a secret.” Gabriel chuckled and raised an eyebrow. Washington took the hint, though he grinned teasingly before he answered the unspoken question. “I picked two people that weren’t on our base. One’s a medic, and the other a weapons technician. I don’t remember their names off the top of my head though, I’d have to look them up.” Then he fell silent once more.

“And? Who else?”

Washington looked at him for a long second, his expression unreadable. “Mai Ong. She—”

“Yeah, I know who she is. Nice pick, the two of you’d get along well.” Washington nodded, and Gabriel felt an uneasy rolling in his belly begin.

“Then Isaac Hong and Jack Morrison.”

Gabriel closed his eyes for a moment longer than was necessary to pass as a blink, though he made absolute sure that his face betrayed nothing. “The two of them together?” The other man bobbed his head again. “Huh. Hope that works out.”

“Hey, I—”

“It’s fine. You want to hear who I picked?” Washington nodded, and Gabriel rattled off the three first names he could remember, and just as he was about to list the fourth he halted. Jeziah didn’t say anything if he caught on to why Gabriel suddenly stopped, and he finished up by stammering that he had forgotten the last two.

“You know, Dabney picked Jack too. Apparently she heard about how well he did it basic and AIT. She didn’t even really know who he was other than hearing us mention him a few times and seeing him around.”

“How’d she take the news that he wouldn’t be going with her?”

“She probably doesn’t much care. She went for who would be the best fit for her team, not so big on the emotional attachment part of it. I guess as soon as I told her I was stealing Jack, she logged right back on and picked someone else.”

Gabriel tried not to let his voice crack when he joked, “You emotionally attached to Jack and Isaac?”

Washington fixed him with a look that told him to not go down that road. Gabriel left it at that.

They sat there together for a while, and Gabriel could’ve kissed him when Washington changed the subject to something lighter. They talked about people back at Seattle that they would miss, and Gabriel lamented that Barbs from back at the bar would kill them for leaving without telling her.

Overall, it was just nice to be away from the rest of the commotion. Away from the doctors with their awful needles and awful formulas that did seemingly nothing but try to kill anyone receiving them. It had only been a few days, and already Washington and the rest of Gabriel’s friends were looking much better. He didn’t care to spend much time looking in the mirror at himself normally, but since they’d gotten there it was more and more difficult to look into any reflective surface. Though on the glimpses that he did get, he could tell that he too was making at least somewhat of a recovery.

Forty degrees slowly turned into fifty as the Earth rotated to put them directly under the sun. Fifty turned into sixty as a few more people joined the two men. Dabney brought snacks and a deck of cards she’d procured, and they spent the rest of the morning playing whatever games they could come up with that involved them.

The sweatshirt Gabriel came out with proved to be just right for the day’s weather, and he could’ve spent hours more underneath the blue sky, letting the Sun’s rays warm his skin. He could have that is, if his stomach weren’t trying to eat itself. He had ignored the first growl from it just fine, but when the third rolled around, Dabney rolled her eyes and stood.

“Lunch time, boys? And lady,” she said with a slight curtsey in Nassar’s direction. There was resounding agreement from their small group, and together they all headed inside.

Lunch turned out to be grilled cheeses, pickles, and wavy potato chips. Gabriel had six of the triangle-cut halves, four bags of chips, and eight pickles before he could finally slow down enough to not seem like a rabid dog.

It seemed his companions were following suit though, so he didn’t feel bad about it as he stood to go get yet another serving. The lunch man handed the food to him with a smile, and as Gabriel sat back down he frowned. “Isn’t it a little weird that no one questions how much we’ve been eating? There’s no rations here at all. Like no one seems to care at all that we’re all acting like pigs.”

Nassar picked up one shoulder and dropped it. “I dunno, looks like they’re used to it.”

“Hundred bucks says it has something to do with what they’re pumping in us,” he joked.

Dabney snorted. “No one in their right mind would take that bet, Reyes, and you know it.”

They ate, and everyone but Dabney went off to do their own separate things. She went with him to the rec room, and they sunk into the couch at the same time, both letting out a long breath as they did so. She pulled out her holopad and began playing a game, and Gabriel turned on the TV to a comedy channel, letting himself become engrossed in a stand-up performer he had never heard of before. He outright laughed at some parts of the show, and beside him he could hear Dabney chuckle at some of the better gags.

It wasn’t long though before she groaned and pushed herself off the couch. “I need to go give another blood sample. Apparently they didn’t take enough from me last time.”

Gabriel’s face twitched. “That’s all they’re doing?”

She waved at the holopad with one hand. “That’s all the email _said_ they were doing.”

“Dabney, that’s bullshit. It’s our week off, they can’t—”

Dabney cut him off by putting one slim finger to his lips. He quickly withdrew from her, an incredulous look on his face. “It’s alright, Gabe. They’re just going to take some blood, give me a juice box, and send me on my way. After that though I’m about ready for a nap. See you at dinner?”

Begrudgingly, he accepted her plan and watched as she left the room.

Suddenly it became a lot harder to focus on the comedy aspects of the special that was on TV. So he turned it off. He sat there for a while longer before pulling out his phone, ignoring the text message that he had typed up in the family group chat that he never bothered to send. Someday. Not today.

There were voices outside the room that became louder and louder at each second. It didn't take a genius to figure out that they were heading towards his location, but he still prayed to whoever was listening that they wouldn’t join him.

His prayers were almost answered.

Instead of the large group that he feared would come in the room, there was only one person that decided to appear in the doorway.

At first it looked as though he thought the room was empty, and he stepped further inside. Gabriel held his breath, and finally the other man noticed him, jumping minutely before letting an easy smile slip onto his face.

Morrison. Of course. Who else in the world could it have been.

Gabriel refused to let his mood sour. After all, it wasn’t Jack’s fault that he was apparently in high demand. Or perhaps it was, but who was Gabriel to decide where the blame laid.

Jack crossed the space quickly, and sat in the chair that was pulled up so that it was almost directly touching the side of the couch Gabriel was sitting in. Despite the fact that Gabriel was more than a little bummed that Jack wouldn’t be in his group, he was happy to see him. Obviously he was only upset because Jack’s credentials far preceded him as a recent recruit. Not for any other reasons.

That’s what Gabriel told himself anyway.

“Hey, Gabriel.” At the eyebrow raise he gave Jack, the blonde practically giggled and said, “Sorry, Reyes, sir.” This time Gabriel rolled his eyes and Jack settled further into his seat. “So how’ve you been?”

“Is that a serious question?”

Jack hummed. “Alright, correction. How’ve you been aside from gettin’ mutilated on the daily?”

He snickered. “That’s a more reasonable one. Christ, when I say these past few days have been heaven compared to what we’ve been going through, I mean it. I’ve even started to get used to sleeping in the barracks again. Except if the newbies start causing shit I _will_ lose it.”

“I know what you mean. I actually did scream at a nurse one time though.” Gabriel’s brows shot up in surprise.

“You?”

Morrison rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. “Well, it wasn’t really screaming at her. I just yelled ‘fuck off’ when she had to stab me four times to get the IV in. It’s just—was that really necessary, you know? Fuck, we got injected with two other things that day and she picked _then_ to lose my vein.” He finished with a huff and looked down at his boots. “I apologized though, of course. It’s not her fault I’m here. Not anyone’s fault but mine actually.”

That was a point he hadn’t thought of. But then again no one knew what they were in for. Nothing they could do about it now.

The two of them fell into an easy silence, with Jack only breaking it to quietly ask for the remote. Gabriel passed it to him, and deftly the other man was able to locate the old cartoon classics channel. He was pleased to see that the one that was on was a show he hadn’t seen since childhood.

Jack tucked his legs up in front of himself, knees hanging off but feet pressed solidly against the armrest of the chair. Gabriel watched as his eyes flickered open and shut, occasionally staying closed for a minute at a time. Each time his head would slowly bob down towards his chest, he’d snap upright again, only to repeat the process. He shook his head and rubbed his eyes after, turning to face Gabriel. “Have you heard anything about the team selection yet?”

Gabriel choked on the air, startled by question as he was. “I, uh.” Jack waited patiently even as he stumbled over his words.

Should he ask him now? The worst he could do was say no after all.

So he went for it.

“Actually, I wanted to see if I could find you and talk to you about that.” This time it was Jack’s turn to look shocked.

“How come?”

“Well, I…” Gabriel worried at the inside of his cheek for a moment. It was uncharacteristic of him to not just come out with it, but it seemed he was having a hard time of forcing words out his mouth lately. “Washington told me that you and Isaac were joining his team, and I just wanted…”

He tried to gauge Jack’s reaction to see where he should take the end of his sentence. Whether he should just wish him good luck, or continue on with his offer.

There was no help to be found anywhere on Jack’s face. It only made sense that now he would choose to develop a poker face. He realized after a long beat that he had taken too long with his break in speech. He mentally cursed himself and blurted out, “Just wanted to let you know that you were one of my choices for my squadron. And if you wanted, there’s a place for you still with m—” He pulled the brakes quickly, tongue darting out quickly to lick his lips. “With us.”

“Gabriel, I…”

“Just, uh. Just know that whatever you decide I respect your decision. I know it’s a lot to ask of you to jump ship and have me be your leader but...Until the day the final selections are made, you have a chance to change your mind.”

This time when Gabriel tried to read him, the pained expression was clear. Gabriel braced himself for the worst.

“It’s...Tempting, yeah, sure. But I already talked to Isaac about it, and Washington seemed happy to have us? I don’t know.” He leaned back and let out a dry laugh. “You’re not the first person to ask me after Washington, actually. I don’t know why, but, like, five other people approached me about this. Shit, there’s a reason I’m not the one making most decisions.”

Despite just wetting them, his lips felt dry. His entire mouth felt dry. Gabriel swallowed, and thought out his next words carefully. “Listen, Jack. I know you’re capable of really great things. Washington can help you, sure. But so can I. I’m not looking for an answer right now, but just think about it, okay? You were actually one of my first picks.” He didn’t bother to mention that Jack _was_ his first pick after he’d looked at his list of _maybe’s._ When Jack looked at him, he offered what he hoped was a comforting smile. Jack looked back down and scratched at his palms.

“Did you consider Isaac at all?” When he spoke it was hardly a whisper, and Gabriel wasn’t even sure he had head him right at all. Jack’s eyes flicked up to his own as he waited for an answer.

Gabriel couldn’t find the strength to give him one for a long while. “No. I didn’t.”

Jack nodded and let out a cough that rattled in his throat. “I didn’t think so. Um, listen. I appreciate the offer, I do. I think though that I’m just gonna stick with Washington. I’m sorry.”

Any hope that Gabriel had had was dashed, and his chest felt constricted. He took a couple seconds to gather himself before responding. “You’ve got nothing to be sorry for. Like I said, I respect your decision. Just wish I had gotten to you first is all.” Jack fixed a pitiful grin on himself before hauling himself up.

“It was nice seein’ you, Reyes. If I don’t get to see you again for a while, thank you for asking me. It’s real good of you to even consider me. I’m supposed to meet Isaac and Cortez though, so…” He trailed off and jerked his head to the door. “I’ll catch you around. Hope the next round of injections ain’t too hard on you.” He began taking a few slow steps over to the doorway, and Gabriel could do nothing but watch him go.

“Yeah, same for you, Morrison.”

The blonde waved goodbye, and Gabriel let his head fall back hard against the couch. The pain didn’t knock the sense into him that he hoped it would, but it was enough of a distraction from the knot that had tied itself in his stomach that he could manage.

With a long groan, he picked up his tablet and began browsing the candidates once more for his team.

It wouldn’t be fair to whoever he picked last though. No one he could think of was going to be a good enough substitute.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey hey....
> 
> okay so can i start off by saying i am so sorry again that it's taken me ages to update. the last semester killed me, but on the bright side, it was my LAST semester! i graduated half a year early for the sole purpose of writing fics. jk lmao but i've had this part done for a while, but i was hellbent on finishing the second part before i posted. next part is goin up TOMORROW!! 
> 
> since im done w school tho ill (fingers crossed) most likely update not only this fic, but do some other stuff as well. i still cant promise speedy updates exactly, but im try my best not to disappear for three months again. thank you so much for stickin with me, and ill see yall next chapter 
> 
> as always u can find me on [tumblr](http://whillowed.tumblr.com/) and [twitter](https://twitter.com/maxalackin)!! ask me anything, send comments, or whatever u want! feel free 2 follow for updates or if u wanna be mutuals lol. for your listening pleasure iridian and i have a really good [spotify playlist](https://open.spotify.com/user/22ohf35fkcwkxrtd7vygohata/playlist/3cLNB4KHtJBdPUhe5gbEPC) so u should def check it out !! seeya


	11. Steam (Part 2)

Jack’s been told he’s been suffering from nightmares. As if he couldn’t figure it out himself.

They’ve been at SEP for almost a month now, and things were beginning to get worse. Not only for him, he would never be as selfish as to think that. But everyone around the base who hadn’t already gone through the program was being pushed beyond their limits.

All around him men and women suffered through what had to be the worst experiences of their lives. Or if there had been a worse experience, Jack shuddered to think about what it could be.  He himself was fairing no better, becoming less and less able to leave the medical wing at all. He stayed nearly every single night in the same hospital bed, curtains drawn tight around his space. The days that he could leave the bed he would go down to the mess hall for a very brief time to drink whatever juice of the day was the least acidic. Occasionally he could force himself to eat a pudding cup, but it wasn’t often.

During his waking hours he was miserable. Even shifting the slightest bit ensured that he felt like he was being burned alive, his muscles so strained from absolutely nothing. He couldn’t breathe right. Throughout his entire life he’d made a point to never breathe out of his mouth unless he was winded or sick—the fear of being called a ‘mouth-breather’ as a child stuck with him—but inhaling otherwise proved impossible. His sinuses were so congested that whenever he tried to suck in air all that met him was absolute resistance. Even when he tried to breathe through his gaping maw, his chest stuttered and he choked on it often.

He wanted to cry, but he was scared that if he did he would suffocate.

Eating became impossible. He was nauseous every single minute, and if he even thought about food or the process of chewing and swallowing, he found himself dry heaving with absolutely nothing in his stomach.

The worst moment thus far was when his throat had swollen shut. It had been in his sleep, and he’d awoken in a state of pure panic. Regardless of the pain he felt upon moving, he sprang out of bed, clambering everything around him onto the floor with a multitude of loud _bang’s._ His IV had been ripped out, and he began convulsing on the floor, clawing desperately at his throat.

Luckily the nursing staff was on twenty four hour surveillance for just this sort of thing. In a matter of seconds a needle was forced into his neck, and mere milliseconds later the pressure in his neck had dissipated. Despite his fears against the action, he curled up in his bed and sobbed into the pillow. Whatever they had given him made it so that he could finally breathe normally long enough to get over his fit and cry himself to sleep.

Upon waking the next morning he was more than disappointed that it was still just as hard for him to draw breath.

This was only the third day after their week long break had ended.

On the fourth morning, Jack woke himself by screaming into the stale air of the room. Around him, patients jolted awake, some moaning in pain or telling him to quiet himself. A nurse came to his side, but after a quick checkup she deemed him fine enough to be left alone, and returned to her post.

Jack collapsed back against his bed and heaved. There was a rattle in his chest that he couldn’t get rid of no matter how many times he tried hacking it up. So he left it alone.

For the rest of the morning until nearly eight he laid absolutely still. He didn’t dare move a muscle, afraid that the fabric would shift and he would wake someone once again. There was nothing that he felt that morning other than complete shame.

Everyone there was going through the same thing that he was, yet no one else woke the entire medical bay because of a bad dream. He absently clawed at his palms. His hands, wrists, ankles and feet had been swollen for the last couple days. He remembered vaguely that his great-grandmother had diabetes, and always had swollen appendages. Jack desperately hoped that he didn’t have diabetes.

As he lay there he tried to remember just what it was that had sent him into an unconscious terror, but he could only picture vague bits of it, nothing solid.

He was running at one point. Running from what he had no idea, but he had stumbled and known that it was over for him. Cut to another scene. He doesn’t remember seeing anything, but he remembered that he couldn’t breathe. It’s dark and black and hes clawing at his throat because he can’t _breathe—_ cut to water. Jack concentrated really hard on this but all he remembers is the waterfall. Falling down off the side of a cliff into a black pit, and he’s at the top of it. Jack thinks he might have jumped, but he’s not sure.

That’s it. That’s all he has to justify why he woke up screaming. He pushed it out of his mind and hauled himself upright, leaning over to grab his phone and check the time. 7:55. There was still an hour for breakfast, but the mere thought of it sickened Jack. He stayed put.

Though he couldn’t remember making the decision to, nor did he remember laying back down or closing his eyes, he must have fallen asleep. He came to this conclusion because the next thing he knows, Isaac is by his side, shaking him gently to wake up.

Jack sputters, words not yet forming adequately in his mind enough so that he can form an actual sentence. What comes out of his mouth is just a bunch of gibberish, and he’s almost worried that he suffered brain damage in his sleep. Isaac tilted his head, obviously not understanding. Jack stopped suddenly, closed his eyes, and inhaled. He cleared his throat and was pleased to find that what he says is exactly what he meant to say. “Is the left side of my face drooping?”

Isaac laughs despite Jack’s obvious concern, and shakes his head. “No, you’re fine. You were just squirming a bit, so I thought it might be best to…” He motioned to Jack, and the blonde nodded.

He rubbed his eyes and furrowed his brow. Was he having another nightmare? He didn’t remember at all if he did. He sat up again, and Isaac dragged his chair a little closer.

“So,” was how Isaac began to speak, though he did not continue.

“So,” Jack echoed.

“You’re having nightmares? Really bad ones from what I’ve heard.” Jack sighed, not wanting to have this conversation.

“Yeah, I uh. Guess I am. You hear that I woke up screaming and basically rose the dead?”

“Something like that.”

Jack shook his head, nearly feral smile pulling at his lips. “Perfect.” He tried to concentrate on anything but the man sitting next to him, and found a few stray threads on his blanket. He pulled at them, watching as they unravelled with minute pleasure. He finally heard his name and looked up, surprised. “Sorry I wasn’t—”

“Paying attention? Yeah, I gathered.” There was a bitter little quip to Isaac’s voice that nearly made Jack flinch, but as soon as he noticed it it was gone. “I was just asking if you knew what they were about. If you can figure out—shit, I dunno—what they signify then maybe you can—”

“What? I just had the one. It’s not a big deal. I’ll be fine tomorrow.”

“This is the third night that you’ve woken up hollering like this, Jack.” Jack blinked.

“I...What do you mean _third?”_

This time Isaac was caught off guard. “I-I guess they didn’t tell you then. Shit.” Jack muttered that _no, no one had told him._ Isaac paused for a long, long time. “I haven’t been in here, but that’s what I heard. No one minds though, Jack, really. The guys that I talked to all get it. You’re not the first one that’s had night terrors like this during SEP. Just, they came to talk to me. To see if you remember anything so we can get this fixed for you.”

He snorted angrily. The annoyance wasn’t directed towards Isaac, or the people that had talked to him, or anyone else. He was pissed with himself. Of _course_ it would be him causing a disturbance like this. He was a useless good-for-nothing asshole that had been disturbing everyone else with his screams of terror for _three_ nights and—

“It’s not a big deal, Jack. Just think if you remember anything.”

Unknowingly, Jack had gone back to pulling at the strings on his blanket. There was a sizeable divot in the hem from where he had untangled the threads piecing it together.

“I don’t really remember anything. Just, um, some flashes of stuff. Nothing cohesive.”

“Like what?”

“Water. Blackness. Me running from something. I don’t know. It’s like I should remember it, it’s _right_ on the tip of my tongue. But every time I think I start to get it— _bam!_ ” He clapped his hands as he said this. Isaac didn’t flinch despite the loud noise. “It’s gone again. Every single _fucking_ time.” His voice broke and he knew he would be close to tears soon if he didn't reign it in. So instead he turned his head sharply and counted until Isaac spoke again.

 _Forty-three._ “Maybe now that you know you’re having them, they’ll stop? Or you can at least remember what happens in them when you wake up.”

Jack resisted the urge to bark out ‘Fat chance,’ and instead bit his lip.

Neither of them said anything for a minute. Finally Isaac shifted in his chair and stood up. “You want to come get lunch? Everyone misses you, but Cortez says that she specifically wants you to drag your ass out of bed.” There was a tentative smile on his lips and Jack sucked in one of his cheeks.

“No,” was his reply, but he was already pulling back the blanket and swinging his legs over the side of his bed. Isaac kicked his shoes closer to him, and Jack shoved his feet into them. He hadn’t bothered with the laces in a long while, choosing instead just to tuck the laces inside the boot and shuffle around. He followed Isaac out of the room—albeit slowly—and prayed quietly that he wouldn’t have to spend another night in the infirmary.

 

\----------------

  


Due to some miracle, Jack got his wish about not having to spend the night in the med bay. He was back in his bunk, and this time when he awoke in the middle of the night shrieking at the top of his lungs, there were people crowded around him.

He flew up, nearly smacking his head off the metal above him if someone hadn’t caught him before. He must’ve seemed wild, half-uttered questions rattling past his lips. He couldn’t register just who was holding him, and who was around him, but he did hear gentle cajoling directed towards him even if he couldn’t comprehend the exact words.

The first thing he did hear was someone demanding that they put a pillow over his face to shut him up, and only then did he realize just how harshly he was breathing. He swallowed, and actively worked to slow his heart rate.

Someone brushed the hair from his forehead, and he flinched. He muttered that he was sorry, and soon nearly everyone had left his side except for the three closest to them. He insisted that he was fine, and eventually they too walked away to return to bed. Jack wished that he could do the same, but instead he turned on his side and stared at the darkened scenery before him. It was so early in the morning, but Jack didn’t move until the world began around him. He couldn’t recall taking his eyes off of the spot they had first landed on, couldn’t recall even blinking.

Like everyone else, he got himself dressed and ready to head over to the med bay. He shuddered as soon as he entered the pristine white room, and moved along with everyone else to receive their treatment for the day. He was directed towards his bed for the injections and laid down as instructed. “No use fighting them, they’d get what they wanted anyway,” he’d been told by a veteran of the program.   
The next few days went on just like any other. Jack’s condition worsened along with everyone else’s, and his ability to leave the med bay was severely impacted just as it had been before. There was no telling how much longer this testing would last, because the higher-ups kept their mouths shut about it all.

Isaac started visiting him often, spending the whole day in that fluorescent nightmare with Jack if he needed to. Whenever he was unable to coax Jack out of his hospital bed to get actual food, he would force something or other down the blonde’s throat. Water and energy drinks were all shoved between his lips—forcefully if the situation demanded it.

He knew reasonably that Isaac had most likely been told that Jack was doing poorly.

For the past few days he had refused anything that the doctors tried to give him. He took the shots and injections with hardly a complaint, but as soon as it was medicine or something that could actually _help_ him, he lost it.

The final straw had probably been when Jack in a fit of rage smacked a tray out of a nurse’s hand, then laughed dully when the metal clanged against the ground. He stopped laughing when he realized that someone would have to clean it up, but with his eyes nearly crusted shut he couldn’t force himself to care. There was no way he was eating.

The resolution to starve himself or die of dehydration hadn’t been a conscious one on his part, nor could he remember ever thinking it to himself when he was left alone. It was simply his credence, the only way he could allow himself to exist in the location he was. He would do whatever it took to become a super soldier, except take care of himself. He was going to die in misery and agony, and he couldn’t seem to wait for it to come.

His pretty blue eyes had dulled, and the whites of his orbs were a perpetual, angry red. His cheeks began to sink in, and he began to be very aware of his ribs and how they began to jut out.

On the first day of not eating or drinking, he just said that he didn’t want anything. The doctors allowed him to be. Loss of appetite was a regular thing, and something that Jack had become accustomed to during his time at SEP. He himself didn’t think anything unusual of it, though he did realize that his thoughts towards consuming something were more aggressively negative than they had been previously. The first day concluded with Jack vehemently denying that he receive an IV. The nurses discussed quietly away from him about whether or not they should force him, but another patient began screaming in pain. So Jack was left alone to sleep.

Upon waking the next day, Cortez and Isaac appeared to ask him to breakfast. Then Cortez arriving again later for lunch. Nurses came and went, each offering him literally anything that he could desire so long as it was edible. He became increasingly annoyed and snappy, barking once again that he didn’t want an IV. He was seconds from causing a scene, so it was ultimately decided that he be left alone again.

The third day was no different. Except this day things nearly did get violent. Not with Jack and anyone else though. No. Several other patients decided that they had had enough of this treatment, and caused such an uproar that personnel in ugly gray pant suits had to escort them out. Jack and his eating issues were forgotten about, which suited him just fine.

After three days though, his stout promise to himself came to an end. Orderlies that were larger than he could ever imagine being stood by his bedside, and Jack smartly kept whatever snide comments he had to himself. He didn’t feel like being knocked out.

Isaac came in soon after and Jack felt an immense wave of relief wash over him. The orderlies left his side, and Jack felt the smile on his face disappear when he saw the expression on Isaac’s. He couldn’t get a sweet _hi,_ out before Isaac was on his case.

“What’s this I hear about you not eating?”

“Hello.”

“Hello, Jack. Answer me.”

There were no threads that Jack could distract himself with this time—at least not without searching. So he fisted his hands in the sheets and grimaced instead. Isaac called over a nurse, and spoke loudly over Jack’s protests, requesting juice and something soft and easy that Jack could eat. She nodded and left them, and Jack glared daggers at Isaac.

He wasn’t thinking clearly, he knew this. He knew that what was about to come out of his mouth he didn’t mean, but there was something wrong with him that he couldn’t voice.

“Fuck you.”

“You’re getting something in you, Jack.”

“Fuck off.”

“I’m not going to sit here and watch you wither away because for some stupid reason you’re starving yourself.”

“I don’t fucking care.”

“I _do.”_

Jack was practically shaking at this point, unable to calm down. His face felt so, so hot and he knew it showed. From somewhere inside his brain he could hear the reasonable parts of him screaming _just eat you fucking idiot, apologize to Isaac and everyone else for causing problems, and just_ eat.

The nurse returned quickly with a bowl of something, some apple slices, and a cut with a lid and straw. Jack made no move to take what she offered, and Isaac stared pointedly at him.

“I don’t want it.”

“You’re going to eat it.” Isaac craned his neck to look at what exactly she was holding, and settled back down. “Or drink it, I guess. But it’s going in you.”

“No it’s not, I don’t want it.”

“I don’t care if you don’t want it, Jack.”

By now Jack’s hands were fisted so tightly that they were white. He was _trembling,_ whether with the minimal exertion he was putting himself through when he was already so weak, or rage. Whatever the case it was visible. His vision was blurry, as it had been for days. He was so _tired._ So tired of being experimented on and poked and prodded and being forced to do everything he didn’t want to, so fucking _tired_ of not being able to cry or laugh or do the simplest fucking things—

“Give it to him, please. I’ll help him.”

When he saw the nurse lean towards him, Jack panicked. His hand struck out before he could catch up with what he was doing. He didn’t hit her, he was thankful for. But the tray that was in her hands was knocked clean out of them, and it hit the floor loudly. The room that was previously abuzz in activity halted, and Jack was just as surprised with himself as everyone else was.

Then he began to laugh.

“Jack,” Isaac began warningly, but that only incentivized him to keep laughing. It was fucking crazy, all of this was. Never in a million years would Jack have thought himself capable of doing anything even _close_ to this, and he could imagine that no one else would have either had they not seen it. He was horrified, but he couldn’t stop. The nurse had retreated, and Isaac still sat in his seat, though he rose now and grabbed ahold of Jack’s hospital pajama shirt, pulling their faces close together.

 _Someone’s going to have to clean that up,_ Jack thought. _You’re causing unnecessary stress._ He took a look into Isaac’s black eyes. Noticed a small birthmark to the side of his left nostril that he hadn’t seen before. His laughter stopped.

“You think this is funny?”

_Not anymore, no._

“I’m sorry.”

Isaac released him and fell back into his seat, hands scrubbing at his face harshly. Jack wanted to tell him to stop before he hurt himself, but then figured that he had no right to do so. Instead he just repeated his apology, and when someone came to clean up the mess he repeated it again.

This wasn’t like him, and he knew that. It seemed everyone else knew that too, because no one harbored a grudge against him during the coming days. Isaac had to force him to eat, though Jack tried resisting. It didn’t work. As tired as the other man might have been, it appeared to be nothing in the face of his desire to get his idiot companion to not die.

At the end of the week, Jack was eating by himself again and able to get out of bed. It was a highly marked improvement, and Jack shuddered to think about how he had acted. Every person that he knew he had treated poorly he apologized to, but the guilty feelings weren’t washed away so easily. He didn’t want to become that person he had been again, but he knew there was no way to guarantee that he wouldn’t.

During his stay he had had a lot of time to think.

A lot of time to think about what a burden he had been, sure. Run-of-the-mill thoughts of anxiety.

Time to reminisce about the nightmares that still seemed to plague him. Though he didn’t feel as alone anymore. One other man and one woman were having the same troubles as he was in this regard. If Jack wasn’t waking up screaming in the night, then it was one of the other two. Assuredly there were those who wanted him dead for this offense, but it wasn’t as though he could exactly blame them for thinking this.

Aside from all this though, Jack knew that dates for final team selections were fast drawing near. He had agreed to be in Washington’s group, and yet…

There were doubts. About staying with Isaac, about being in that group. About being in _any_ group really.

He felt stuck.

The offer to join Gabriel Reyes’s team became more and more tempting the longer he allowed himself to think about it. However, the idea of flinging himself off the nearest building seemed equally desirable in Jack’s eyes. Perhaps he preferred the latter thought more and more whenever he was being tortured by the medical staff here. Then he looked at Isaac sleeping by his bedside and felt even guiltier for considering leaving him. The feeling overwhelmed him until he had to bite back tears. It wasn’t hard to conserve them, dehydrated as he was.

After a couple more days he was ready to leave the med bay for good.

For then at least, he was able to join his friends in the mess hall for breakfast. They were told that they’d have a few more days off. This was unscheduled apparently, but no one was complaining.

Jack and his friends spent their time moving around the base. One day they were in the rec room, then mess hall, library, mess hall, then ended the day with several games of cards in another friend’s barracks. The next day they spent outside, Cortez managing to procure a dodgeball and Jack insisting he wanted to feel the sun again. After they discovered wall ball was a no-no according to one supervisor, Jack found a rock and some concrete and scratched some marks into it that would be washed away soon. They played four-square until their tired and aching bodies couldn’t move any longer. It no longer took much to take several young adults and reduce them into lazy mounds that could do nothing but lay in the grass and complain.

Cortez had her head resting on Jack’s thigh, and he blearily tried to recollect how he had done a dutch braid for one of his sisters while trying to will his drooping eyes to stay open. Isaac’s back was pressed against his own and they supported each other easily. Jack gave up trying to work the braid and sighed gently. He could feel Isaac twist against him to try and look at him, but the angle was wrong.

“You okay?”

There was something Jack really wanted to tell him, but not here.

“I’m fine. Just tired.”

Isaac moved minutely and looked back over his shoulder. “It’s about lunch time if you want to get going.” Jack was immediately nauseous, but he nodded anyway. There was no sense in arguing, especially when the other man was prone to shove something down his throat even if there was nothing less in the world he’s rather do than eat.

Surprisingly, when Jack saw the chicken nuggets that looked like they could’ve been from McDonald’s, and matching fries, his reflexes told him to get an entire trayful of the meal. For once, he was inclined to listen.

True there were few things that he should’ve been putting into his stomach less than fast food (for example, motor oil), but it was the closest thing to being able to take a few hits from his sister’s bong, get into his dad’s shitty old Ford truck and go get food for his and his shitfaced siblings.

God he missed being able to drive with the windows down and feel the wind whip through his hair.

He polished off the tray faster than he realized, and while he was lost in thought his hand stroked the tray looking for a stray fry or two. Once he realized what he was doing he quickly retracted it and wiped it on a napkin, finally looking up to everyone surrounding him.

“Whaddya think, Jack? Wanna join my group?”

Jack looked over at Isaac, who was gazing intently at the man who asked the question.

“Why would I do that?” He smiled to let him know it was a joke, but already his mind was starting its attempt to drift out of the conversation once more.

“Get you away from your mom here.”

“My m—” he cut his own question off abruptly and saw that way that Isaac’s brow furrowed even further. “Oh,” he said and laughed. “No, I’m okay with sticking with him.”

The quiet chuckles that were coming out of everyone were silenced when Isaac grumbled, “Not like I would let you anyway.”

“Oh no,” Cortez said quietly as Jack said, “Excuse me?”

Isaac turned in his seat to face him fully then, and Jack looked around himself for any support. Everyone else turned their heads and pretend like they wouldn’t be eavesdropping on them. “After everything we went through, you’d really consider that?”

“It was a _joke,_ Isaac. Of course I’m not thinking about joining someone else.” _A lie,_ but one that he didn’t need to know.

Whereas Jack was content to drop it then, Isaac’s gaze did leave his face. “After everything I’ve done—”

“Isaac!” Jack cut him off harshly, a gruffness to his voice that he didn’t authorize himself to allow. He cleared his throat once and continued. “Listen, whatever you want to talk about _now is not the time.”_ He ducked his chin to indicate the friends they had sitting right there, and finally Isaac relented. Jack repressed the sigh he wanted to let out, and clasped his hands in his lap. A decision was made about what to do next, and Jack didn’t listen—just followed everyone else as they put their trays away and walked over to the rec room. Isaac sat in an armchair for one, and Jack took a seat on the couch closest to him.

Neither of them looked at each other for a long time.

Eventually the room began to clear out, everyone profusing that they either had a prior engagement, or they wanted to turn in for the night.  The only ones left by the time nine PM rolled round were Jack, Isaac, and Cortez. There were a few other people that were taking advantage of the foosball and pool tables, and were Jack feeling better physically or mentally, he might suggest some pingpong.

As it were, Cortez was curled up in her chair, eyes barely open and unable to move from whatever was on the TV. And Isaac was quietly stewing in whatever he was angry about.

Jack was trying to understand him better. No doubt Isaac was simply affected by everything they had been going through all this time. Yet, Jack’s own temper was dangerously short, and that near-fight in the middle of the mess hall did nothing to improve his mood.

He supposed that a lot of what was to occur next was his fault. He could’ve began his sentence more positively, or maybe he could’ve just kept his mouth shut. But he didn’t.

“What was your problem back there?” _Shit,_ those weren’t the words he wanted. He opened his mouth to try and correct, but it was too late.

“What was _my_ problem? You’re the one who’s been having a mental breakdown in the med bay for two weeks straight, Jack.”

“That’s not fair,” he replied quietly, but Isaac huffed.

“It wasn’t fair that I had to stay with you all that time just to make sure you didn’t fucking kill yourself. But hey, I did it. And I’m not complaining. But it would be nice if you would stick up for me a little when someone else is saying that I’m overbearing, or-or controlling you, or something else.”

“Who was saying that?”

Isaac snarled. “The same guy that asked you to join his team earlier!” Cortez was definitely more awake and alert now, and Jack could see that though she remained still, she was looking at them out of the corner of her eye. Whatever, let her watch.

“I wasn’t listening to what he s—”

“ _Obviously_ you weren’t listening. Have you heard a damn thing anyone has said to you in days unless they had to snap their fingers in front of your face?”

“Jesus, Isaac, I’m tryin’—”

“Oh you’re _trying._ I’m so sorry.” Isaac nearly slammed his feet down onto the floor and launched himself to his feet. It was an intimidation move that Jack wouldn’t allow himself to stand—or rather, sit—for.

A million other times Jack would have an argument, he would do everything he could to de-escalate it. Apologize for something even if he didn’t need to, and just let it be. This time was different.

This time Jack stood up too and Isaac let him, backing up a half-step to allow him some room. Cortez slowly sat up, one hand fisted on the couch arm rest, the other behind her to help push her up quickly if she needed to bolt. Jack almost wanted to tell her, and everyone else to leave. Then again if he or Isaac did something truly stupid it might be better if they stayed. So instead he turned his focus back to the taller man.

“Yeah, Isaac. I _am_ trying. You think I want to sit in the medical wing and not move from my stupid bed? You think I want to wake up every single night either screaming, or listen to someone else doing it? You think I wanted to try and starve myself without even knowing why? You think I wanted to make you wait by my bedside just to make sure I didn’t keel over?”

“I don’t know, maybe you liked the attention. You never get it anyway.”

That was what set Jack off. “OH, right. I forgot you hovering over me every second wasn’t enough attention for me, that’s why I did it. My bad.”

“I don’t _hover_ over you.”

“No, that’s right! You just follow me everywhere and scare off whatever friends I have that you personally don’t like.”

“Is this about fucking Reyes again?”

Jack was startled. He didn’t want to think about if it was or not, but he denied it anyway. “No, it’s not about him.”

Isaac didn’t buy it. “It is! You’re mad that I told you he was in fucking love with you just because I wouldn’t let you get sucked up into his shit!”

“So, what? You want some medal for lying to me and making me stay away from a guy that’s actually pretty decent?” After a brief pause, he added, “It’s _not_ about Gabriel.” Isaac laughed, tilting his head back and letting out something that almost sounded evil. “Even if it was—which it’s not—what would it matter? This is about you and me, not anyone else.” His hand retreated to his pocket, back to the triangular shaped gift that had his name engraved in it. Most days he forgot it was there, but it was the one thing that he had that wasn’t taken from him.

After Isaac stopped laughing, Jack watched as one of the man’s hands went to clutch at his chest, but he quickly forgot about it as Isaac gave him a weird look. “What do you keep doing in your pocket?” Jack ripped his hand out.

“Nothing.”

“What’s in there?”

“It’s not your business!”

“Everything I have done so far has been for you. And you just run around and get all this attention from guys because you’re just so damn sweet and pretty. All of a sudden when you’re not getting this attention you’re pissy with _me_ like it’s my fault!”

“What the hell are you talking about? I wasn’t—”

“Yeah you were.” Regardless of the fact that Jack had no idea what Isaac was talking about, he pressed on. Isaac’s hand began to rub at his chest, and he might have noticed that Isaac’s chest began rapidly moving up and down, his breaths coming out as quick wheezes. “Washington asks you if we want to join his group. I said yes for you, Jack.”

“I didn’t ask you to join for me!”

Isaac ignored him. “I said yes because I knew that if you didn’t have one person looking out for you, something would go wrong and you’d end up dead or worse.”

“So you don’t think I can take care of myself?”

“I didn’t say that.”

“Yes you did! You just said that if you weren’t watching my every move I’d wind up dead, ‘or worse.’” The last two words were spoken with sarcastic air quotes, Jack rolling his eyes and cocking one hip to add the to dramatics of it. “Why can’t you just accept that I can _do_ things? Without you?”

Hong looked like he was moments from snapping, and he knocked a wooden bowl that had probably contained one snack or another off a coffee table. Jack didn’t flinch, but Cortez sure did. The other people that were in the room scrambled out, but Jack’s friend thankfully stayed.

“Every fucking thing that I have done since I met you has been to protect you. I’d do anything to keep you safe, you fucking idiot. Christ, I think I’m having an anxiety attack.” Accentuated by another hard rub to his chest.

Ah, Cortez slipped off the couch and left. Jack couldn’t blame her, but he wished he could have some back up in this regard. That, or she would cut in at any moment and tell them both that they were acting like stupid children. Something to that effect.

Jack spoke slowly, angrily. “I didn’t ask you to. I never fucking asked you.”

Now Isaac look like he was going to snap. He took a step towards Jack, one hand held up with his pointer finger out, and Jack closed his eyes, ready for the punch that was going to come.

It didn’t. Instead he heard a loud thump on the floor, and he slowly opened his eyes again. Isaac lay on the ground, unconscious and twitching. Jack felt a loud gasp escape him, and he dropped to his knees quickly. Perhaps too quickly if the smack of bone hitting the solid ground was any indication, but he paid the pain no mind if he even felt it.

He shook Isaac, calling out his name louder and louder. With some effort he managed to flip the man over, and checked to make sure that he was still breathing. He was, but then what the hell was the matter with him?!

Cortez returned moments later, someone else in a grey pantsuit rushing over to check Isaac’s pulse, and Jack stuttered out that the other man was still breathing. Either the person didn’t care, didn’t believe him, or just didn’t hear his words because they checked the same thing. They administered the beginnings of CPR, hands intertwined palm-to-back and pressed hard against his chest. Jack stayed where he was, eyes welling up with tears. He wanted to ask what was going on, but he couldn’t get past the first syllable. Repeating, “W-wh-wh” over and over again until the other person looked up at him.

“Get back,” they ordered. And orders Jack could follow. He scrambled backwards into Cortez’s legs, and she leant down to wrap her arms around his shoulders.

They stared, horrified, as Isaac began to convulse. Doctors in blinding white lab coats came rushing in past them. After a beat or two, once they became aware of the situation, Jack and Cortez were ordered to leave. She helped haul him up, and together they hurriedly left, the both of them scared and concerned.

  


\----------------

 

They were told that Isaac was going to be fine. He suffered an ‘allergic reaction’ to something, and the shock had caused his body to try and shut itself down. Jack wasn’t sure he believed it, which was strange for him considering the fact that he believed mostly everything he had been told his whole life.

Maybe he was growing up.

The chair that he had spent the last few days in was cramped and hard. What minimal padding there was had been flattened by Jack’s time there, and the metal underneath did nothing to warm or comfort him. Cortez had found him a seat pillow, but even that provided little help. Jack didn’t care though. He blamed himself for what had happened to Isaac, so this small amount of agony was nothing but due penance for him—or so he believed.

If he had kept his mouth shut about how he was feeling, Isaac wouldn’t be in this position.

Cortez and the doctors told him that was bullshit—in kinder words of course—but the nagging feeling that somehow Isaac’s comatose state was his doing. He wanted to be there when the other man woke up, to apologize and beg forgiveness. To wait on him hand and foot if that’s what he wanted.

There was a small part of him that hoped Isaac would punch him as soon as his eyes opened. Maybe then he’d consider them even.

He shook his head and sucked in a shaky breath. The testing and experimenting didn’t stop even though Jack’s boyfriend had been unconscious for a few days. It made sense, sure, but the couple hours Jack was away each day were...Difficult. At the very least, Jack was doing a lot better about not spending a week on end in his own hospital bed. He also didn’t think that he was waking up screaming any longer, but it’s not as though Isaac would be able to tell him otherwise.

Jack shifted in the chair, and switched which leg was propped up on which on Isaac’s bed. Cortez had brought him a warm yellow cardigan and a blanket. When he slept, the cardigan became a pillow, and while he was awake the blanket was just extra padding on his seat. It wasn’t a great system, but it worked.

“Any minute now,” the doctors had told him in regards to the other man waking up. Well, any minute had turned into hours had turned into another full day since they had said this. If this minute were to come, he hoped it was soon.

Jack didn’t know how Gabriel found out that Isaac was in a coma, or how he found out that Jack didn’t leave the other man’s bed. He didn’t really care though, only looking up when he heard Reyes burst into the room and rush to within ten feet of him before halting. Once blue eyes met comforting brown ones, whatever the former drill instructor had to say died on his lips. Jack spoke instead, guessing on what Gabriel was probably going to ask.  

“The doctors say he’s gonna be fine,” he started—lowly and slowly. Gabriel shifted awkwardly from one foot to the other, and Jack stares back down at the floor before him.

“That’s uh, that’s good,” Gabriel tried. Jack wasn’t really listening. There was no easy way to introduce what he wanted to say, so he just decided to blurt it out.

“I’ve made a decision.” Before Gabriel could finish clearing his throat and ask him something along the lines of _which is?_ Jack raised his voice. Not yelling, no of course not. But his tone war firm, didn’t waver. Just like he had practiced. “The doctors say he’s going to be fine, probably wake up any minute now actually. I’m…” He sighed, and still Gabriel waited patiently for him to continue.

“You offered me a spot on your team.”

There was a beat before Reyes realized that he was supposed to respond to this statement. “Uh, yeah. I did.”

Jack tore his eyes away from the pale-blue speckled tile and light colored grout that overlapped the tiling by just _enough_ in some areas that it created little bumps. He found himself speaking without having to tell himself still, the question bubbling off his lips quicker than his brain could keep up. “That offer still stand?”

Clearly, his former drill instructor was caught off guard. He stared at Jack for a long few moments, an incredulous look on his face. Finally, he got ahold of himself and chuckled. “You’re cutting it close, Jackie. But yes, offer still stands.”

“Then I’m joinin’ you.”

Gone seemed to be the meek personality that Jack had entered the military with. At least, in this instance. He was confident, cool, everything that he had never exhibited before, in his humble opinion.

“You’re sure?”

“Yes.” Jack could no longer hold the gaze he’d kept with Gabriel’s warm eyes and instead flinched away then, attention seemingly shifting back to the tiled floor. One of them was unevenly placed, and were he allowed to stew in that fact it could grow to bother him immensely. “I’ve been doin’ a lot of thinking the past few days. About a lot of things, but also specifically this. Mostly this, actually.”

“If you don’t want to explain—”

Boldly, Jack held his hand up. Gabriel snapped his mouth closed. Uncharacteristic, the both of them. Then again, this was an unusual situation.

“We work well together, me and Isaac. But he’s always going to prioritize me over the mission, or objective, or whatever. I don’t think he would’ve before—not when Washington first asked us. And maybe he was lying when he told me what he did right before all this, but it doesn’t matter anymore. I don’t trust him to not do something stupid to protect me anymore. This is as much for his benefit and Washington’s team as it is mine. And I like Washington well enough, but he’s never been able to teach me as much as you have. I dunno, if we’re in this team together then maybe you can teach me how to be a better soldier or-or...Fuck, I don’t know.” His confidence faded as quickly as it had shown itself, and if the eyes Jack could feel on him were there like he believed, then Gabriel most certainly saw how his lip quivered and his face broke for a split second.

There was another silence, a real long one. If there had been lulls in conversation before, this one lasted for a century. Jack risked looking up at Gabriel once more, taking in the way the other man stood. Rigid, arms folded, head tucked so that he was looking at Jack squarely despite the blonde’s seated position.

“You’re right, probably. About Isaac. But, Jack—”

“Gabriel—Reyes,” He corrected himself. “If there is an open spot in your team, I want it. If there’s not I understand but if there’s any chance of me joining you, I want to take it.”

Gabriel swallowed thickly, audibly. “Then it’s yours.”

Jack huffed out a sigh of relief and mumbled a quick, “Thank you.” He chewed on his lip briefly, flicking his eyes up to see Gabriel still staring at him. “So, um. Why are you here?” He nearly flinched at how rude he sounded, but it had been a long few days. Gabriel could forgive him.

“Just wanted to see how you were doing.”

He gestured to himself and let out a choke of a laugh. “I’m alive, I guess. Better’n he’s doin’. How’re you?”

A rise and fall of Gabriel’s broad shoulders. Despite all of their time apart, and everything that they’d gone through, Jack could still find himself relaxing in Gabriel’s presence. There was something about the man that was just so calming. “Have you eaten?” Jack shook his head. “Then come on, let’s get dinner.” Jack opened his mouth to protest, but Gabriel cut him off. “That’s an order, Morrison.”

Jack felt a toothy grin take over his face and he worked himself up. Gabriel waited for him, and off they went.

  


\----------------

 

Isaac did end up waking that night. He had looked over to see Jack curled up in the shitty metal armchair by his side, and he fell asleep once more. The following morning, he had blinked his eyes awake, and for a few hours everything had been fine.

Then Jack told him about his decision to join Gabriel’s team.

Things between them were very strained after that. Innocent teasing turned into full-blown fights. The period for group selections ended, and they were told that soon they would begin their training. The SEP program was drawing to a close, and still the two men had found no resolution to their relationships. The days dragged on, and eventually it was decided that they would no longer be receiving injections.

They were still required to report to the med bay once weekly for blood tests and the like, but the estimated time between when their treatments ceased and they would begin to experience the full amount of changes in their body was still a ways to go. Nothing the doctors or grey-suited individuals explained to them made any sense to Jack. Everything just seemed like an obnoxious amount of medical jargon.

For the first time in a long while Jack wanted nothing more than to return home to his family’s farm in Indiana.

It wasn’t an option, and he knew that.

Jack and Isaac no longer spent a lot of time just the two of them anymore. In fact, they rarely saw each other without at least one buffer anymore. Even then the periods of time were brief, and they kept their goodnight kisses short and clipped. During the beginning of their relationship, Jack would have bemoaned this fact. No time to make out or do anything else? Sounded like a nightmare. Now Jack could hardly stand to be touched by Isaac.

They talked in length about this, one of the nights that Jack had spent in Isaac’s bunk. Jack’s head was resting on Isaac’s shoulder, and the latter man spent a long while threading his fingers through Jack’s growing blonde hair. They talked about breaking up, but neither of them were quite ready to just throw this away yet. They agreed that they would give it some more time, but the end of them as a couple was an offer on the table.

Nearly a week later found the two of them alone outside, resting on a blanket and looking up at the stars. There were a million things that Jack wanted to say at the time, but every single one of them was put on hold when Isaac announced, “All of Washington’s group is getting shipped out tomorrow.” Jack bolted upright.

“You waited until now to tell me?” He wanted to be furious, and maybe in some regard he was. But he was calmer than he thought he could be at this news. Almost like he wanted Isaac to leave. He cleared the thought from his head once he felt his face crumple.

Isaac hushed him after he whimpered once, trying so hard not to cry. Isaac raised himself so that he rested on his ankles and cupped the back of Jack’s head with one hand, bringing their foreheads together.

“When are we gonna see each other? How is this gonna work?”

The other man laughed, though not meanly. It sounded pained, and he shook his head. “It wasn’t ever gonna work, Jack. You knew that though, huh?” Jack didn’t want to admit it, but he did. Even without verbal confirmation though Isaac knew he understood. Isaac cupped Jack’s cheek with his other hand, and wiped away one stray tear with his thumb. Jack wrinkled his nose, unaware that he had let even that one tear slip. Isaac kissed his forehead and stood up. “It’s late, we should get back.”

Defiant, Jack sat and looked up at the stars once more. He could see Isaac out of the corner of his eyes tilt his head up, sigh, and sit back down. They spent most of their last night together in that same place, watching the night sky until they nearly fell asleep.

Early the next morning, Jack awoke with a start. He knew there was something he needed to do, though he couldn’t quite recall what it was. He nearly fell back asleep before his eyes slammed open, suddenly remembering exactly what it was. He sprang out of bed, and nearly tripped and slammed his head against the bedpost before he could get his sweatpants and boots on. Every since the medical treatments he’d had to endure, he still never bothered with his laces. He knew his shirt wasn’t on properly, but there was no time.

As he ran through the halls, his dog tags clanked loudly against each other without his shirt holding them to his chest. Jack almost ran into a woman, sidestepping quickly with an apology thrown over his shoulder.

He arrived outside in what seemed like just the nick of time, bolting to the only truck that was being still being loaded up. He prayed that he wasn’t too late, and that this was the transfer truck Isaac was on, and that no other group was departing today. He nearly did a full lap around the truck before he was grabbed and spun around, bewildered expression fading into a smile when he saw Isaac.

“What are you doing here?”

Jack cleared his throat. “I couldn’t live with myself if I didn’t at least get to say bye to you. We went through a lot of shit together, you know.”

Isaac chuckled and pulled the other man in for a hug. It lasted too long, but neither of them was quite willing to let go just yet. Eventually Jack removed his face from where it had been pressed into Isaac’s neck, and he coughed again, trying to clear the lump in his throat. Isaac surprised him, pulling him in for a kiss. Jack closed his eyes and sighed into it, and then all too quickly it was over.

They released each other, and Jack turned around to see Washington and Gabriel talking, Gabriel’s gaze snapping to and away from him quickly, an odd look on his face. Jack chalked it up to his sadness that his friend was also leaving, but Gabriel left soon after that. Isaac had already boarded the bus as Jack made his way over to Washington. The older man pretended like he wasn’t paying attention to Jack, but punched him lightly in the arm when he approached.

“You could’ve been leaving today too, you know.”

“Yeah. I’m s—”

“Oh god, Morrison, don’t apologize _again._ ” Washington broke into a grin, and Jack laughed just a little. There was a slight awkward pause, and Jack went in for a hug, though Washington leaned back.

There must have been no doubt that Jack was dismayed at the turn of events, because next thing he knew he was being crushed into Washington’s chest. He wrapped his arms around the other man’s rib cage, and this hug was a lot shorter than the one he had shared with Isaac, though no less meaningful. Washington clapped him on the shoulder, and pushed Jack’s head to the side.

“Take care of yourself, Morrison. You’re going to do great things, kid.”

Jack didn’t trust himself to speak, so he simply nodded and watched as Washington climbed into the truck. The cool morning air made him wrap his arms around himself, and as the truck began to pull away, Jack had to bite his lip to avoid any more of his stupid tears.

That was the last time Jack Morrison saw anyone in that truck again.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello again
> 
> as promised next chap is here. don't have much 2 say other than ill be workin on next chap real soon! it's all planned out tho ;^)
> 
> thank u guys so much for reading! 
> 
> as always u can find me on [tumblr](http://whillowed.tumblr.com/) and [twitter](https://twitter.com/maxalackin)!! ask me anything, send comments, or whatever u want! feel free 2 follow for updates or if u wanna be mutuals lol. for your listening pleasure iridian and i have a really good [spotify playlist](https://open.spotify.com/user/22ohf35fkcwkxrtd7vygohata/playlist/3cLNB4KHtJBdPUhe5gbEPC) so u should def check it out !! seeya

**Author's Note:**

> hi! so this is the first fic in what i hope to be a very long multi-chapter fic! hOPEFULLY all goes well lol. 
> 
> as always u can follow [my tumblr!](http://whillowed.tumblr.com/) for updates, to ask me questions, and so on! feel free to @ me on there for liveblogs or drawings or anything of the like! 
> 
> spanish is not my first language, and whereas i'm pretty fluent in it, and i do know there's some discrepancies between spainiard spanish and mexican spanish, so feel free to correct me on any grammar or slang errors!


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